


Nose Drool

by SingSwan_SpringSwan



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Big Brother Bones, Bones being a grouch, But also crew being chaotic and acting like crackheads lol, Female James T. Kirk, First Movie, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jamie T. Kirk - Freeform, Leonard "Bones" McCoy Saves the Day, Pike is dad, Starfleet, Touch-starved kirk, Uhura is sassypants, Warning for fight graphics, aw, dadmiral Pike, idk what I’m doing with this, look at our lil captain making friends, mostly just blood, really just some word vomit tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27493009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingSwan_SpringSwan/pseuds/SingSwan_SpringSwan
Summary: Just some Fem!Jim content for you guys. I really like this headcanon so idk may post more. Mostly just wanted to write for fun. Please read the tags—which I will update as I post new chapters, so always keep an eye out.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Christopher Pike, James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk & Nyota Uhura
Comments: 61
Kudos: 94





	1. Cracked Glass

**Author's Note:**

> If you think it’s a reference to another fandom it probably is. Pretty sure I’ve thrown in a handful of Star Wars nods too cause I’m a double agent like that.

“No way! That’s the name I was gonna make up for you!” Jamie flashed a charming grin at the woman with silky hair. She’d been told it made her look wild, fun, and friendly all at the same time, in spite of the cute vibe that her uneven mouth and scrunched nose gave off. Either way, she must have done something right, because the woman’s lips turned down in a barely-suppressed smile. How satisfying.

Starting to become uncomfortable with the interaction, the guy between them got up from his seat. Jamie took the opportunity to snatch her glass off the counter and sidle up next to Uhura.

“They have last names where you come from?”

“Of most certainly course, farm-girl. Uhura is my last name.”

“I like it.” Jamie declared, flashing that crooked grin again. “Though I don’t suppose you’re willing to disclose the first half of your identity,”

Uhura rolled her eyes. Good-naturedly. “Nope. I just met you, Ms…”

“Kirk.” Jamie added a wink, because Uhura was obviously from Earth and would easily recognize the name, as lame as it was to harp on it. Jamie would blame the amount of self-control her mother endowed her with. “Jamie T. Kirk. T stands for `trouble`.”

This last comment caused Uhura to burst out with sudden laughter. With a loose arm, she reached out and pushed Jamie away. Jamie smiled. Was this woman seriously tolerating her? That was new. Most impressive.

“So, you’re a cadet.” She started, because the only way to truly gauge how much Uhura’s patience could stand was to get her talking about herself in the most blatantly obvious way. “Joining Starfleet, got a career in mind? What’s your focus, huh? Your aim?”

The feisty woman lowered her eyelids halfway and leaned her side against the counter. “Majoring in xeno-linguistics. You have no _idea_ what that means.” Her voice adopted a bored drawl that would have set Jamie on edge—had she not already been intrigued by the fact that this woman was still talking to her.

She pretended to be offended, even though she had no real right—considering the dumpy clothes she’d dressed in (personally, she thought the worn leather and bleached jean combo was pretty sexy), and the way she’d chosen to present herself. “Study of alien languages. What do you think I am? A porphyric monarch?” (Uhura laughed again). “Morphology, phenology, syntax. No doubt your tongue is made of silver.”

Turning completely, Jamie’s conversational partner rested her elbows against the bar and devoted her attention completely to the civilian, back to her many drinks. “Well, I’m impressed.” She stated frankly, clearly so despite her good methods to hide it. “And here I thought I was talking to an air-headed farm-hand who only has relations with _beef cows_.”

Jamie was very tempted to say something flirtatious like _`well, not only`_ , but she thought better of it in favor of avoiding miscommunications. “Glad to prove you wrong.” She told the cadet instead, leaning far enough in that the genuine tone of her voice didn’t carry, and also far enough that it would make Uhura snort in laughter. More points. She snorted, instead of giggling stupidly. Jamie thought they might be friends in an alternate universe.

“Hey, strawhead!” A burly hand clapped Jamie’s shoulder all of a sudden, and she felt herself being yanked back rudely.

“Have some respect for Starfleet!”

Jamie bit down a weird noise of protest and turned to observe her nuisance. Four other cadets had blocked up the space behind the bar, as if they were standing in formation. The tallest looked to be a handful of years her senior, and his hand was still gripping her shoulder.

She opened her mouth to waylay him.

“Come on, guys, snap off.” Uhura sighed. “She didn’t say anything.”

Jamie roughly shook the hand away, feeling an indignant scowl start to form. “Thanks, Sis, but I can handle my own cupcake.”

Urhura muttered something quietly.

“Hey, milk maid,” The male cadet growled. He took a step closer, officially invading Jamie’s personal space. Oh boy. She was itching to shove him. Inducing such an act of displeasure would probably be a poor decision, given that he and his friends were clearly prone to adverse behavior, but she didn’t like him, and she wanted this interaction to be over. Maybe talking to Uhura had been a mistake after all.

“In case you can’t count, there are four of us and one of you!”

Jamie bemoaned her lack of a mouth filter in some desolate recess of her mind.

“I like those odds,” She agreed easily. “So get a few more guys, and maybe it’ll be a fair fight.” Then, because she had no physical self control either, she brought her hand up and sloppily patted his cheek.

She’d barely noted Uhura’s mortified expression and turned back to her drink when the sleeve of her jacket bunched in someone’s angry fist. Her eyes shot to the bartender. “I’m sorry about the mess.” She told him. He sighed.

Then Jamie was _really_ yanked from her seat. Hauling her by her upper arm, Cupcake lifted her from the chair and threw her body into a nearby table. Pain blazed up her thigh. She cursed mentally.

“Hey!” Uhura barked. But no one paid her any heed.

Jamie uprighted quickly and relaxed into a fighting stance. The four cadets advanced.

Setting: bar. Appropriate fighting style: brawl. And if Jamie didn’t use any dirty tricks—like the classic Vulcan shoulder nerve pinch thingy—this fight had the potential to be fun.

She ducked under the first fist and dealt the assailant some in the gut. Her foot swept out for good measure. Then there were more hands on her, and she twisted to avoid a crack to the head. 

Punch, block, knee. 

Her movements eased into a brutish rhythm, snapping back and forth between the hostiles with vicious clubs of her fists and heavy shoves that sent them reeling. She wasn’t going with entirely calculated moves. Admittedly, the style was more sloppy than she was willing to put the effort in, but as long as it got the job done, it didn’t totally matter. 

The cadets seemed to be of the same mind, however. Glass cracked, tables screeched, and Jamie took a harsh beating. She welcomed the bright pain. As dishonorable and moronic as these men seemed, at least they were taking her seriously. Plus, they were definitely the center of attention. Everyone at the bar, maybe even in the entire building, was crowding around in a tight circle, trying to get a glimpse of the excitement. Uhura was one of the few voices shouting for them to stop (maybe. Jamie’s hearing wasn’t quite reliable after she took a sharp punch to the side of her head), and most of the remaining murmurs were more intrigued than anything. 

How was a pretty-faced farm-girl holding (not really holding) her own against four strapping Starfleet cadets? Definitely a subject of interest to anyone not formally acquainted with Jamie T. Kirk, daughter of the famed Vahallan officer.

At some point in time, said woman encountered interference from the crowd, and her foot slid on the mess of a spilled drink. The literal slip-up saved her a scary right hook to the eyeball, but as she went down, her face planted on the abused floor, and something sharp sliced into her lip.

She barely had time to register the _woah, ow_ of the sensation before she was roughly hauled up by the collar, and slammed down on a table that was miraculously still upright. 

“Stop it!” Uhura screamed. That persistence sure was admirable, especially because she was defending Jamie, and the two of them had only just met.

Jamie’s head lolled dangerously back as the cadet above her beat with his fist. She had just enough wit to keep her tongue away from her snapping teeth, but the position was causing blood to froth in the back of her throat, and if she didn’t sit up soon, she was going to choke.

Her whole body throbbed with heat. Her nose was totally broken.

Just when she was about to start spazzing from holding her breath so long, a high, painful whistle shrieked through the room and bounced around Jamie’s head. She probably would have flinched if she’d been more coherent. It took her a moment to realize the physical attacks had stopped, and a little longer to realize that an irritated, commanding voice was ordering everyone from the premises.

Jamie’s vision was sucky. In her attempt to roll to her side, she slipped from the table and crumpled on the floor, barely able to tilt her head and gurle blood away from her trachea.

Shoes, fancy, captainy shoes did some kind of jig in front of her swollen nose.

The same commander voice from before (maybe. Her hearing was not reliable. She felt a tiny bit woozy) softened in tone and addressed her no-doubt horrific-looking personage. “You alright there, buddy?”

Jamie wasn’t sure why she thought squinting would help clear her head, but she did it, rolling onto her side once more so she could look up without compromising her windpipe again. “You can whistle really loud, ya know that?” She slurred, unimpressed even with herself.

The unfamiliar man let out a quiet sigh.

From way down on the floor, it was hard to tell if she recognized the guy at all, mostly because his face and pretty much waist up was shrouded in a red haze. Jamie swiped at her brow. Great. Blood in the eyes. Fantastic. Maybe laying still for a few seconds would make her feel better. She settled her temple against the disgusting tile. 

Really the only thing she could make out about the man was his outfit. The uniform was undeniably Starfleet; Jamie would know those colors anywhere. They were a captain’s dress. Maybe the supervisor of those cadets? She wanted to be irked by his inability to properly supervise them if that was the case, but then again, she probably deserved a beating like that for something she’d done in a past life.

Words were exchanged between the captain and that blessed bartender, but Jamie neglected to pay attention. Her body was in too much hurt at the moment. Maybe she also shouldn’t have drunk so much—though she had barely been buzzed when she started chatting Urhura up.

Ignoring the cool respite of the tile, she did react, however, when she noticed the shoes jigging their way over again, moaning pathetically and trying to get her hands underneath her. What a night. Never talk to Starfleet cadets again. 

“Alright, buddy, on your feet.” 

A firm grip on her elbow had Jamie whining and staggering up at the same time. Much to her relief, she was immediately plonked down into a chair at the adjacent table, and relatively still conscious. She squinted again. A towel and a bowl of water waited in front of her.

How convenient. Was she the only one left in the bar?

A half-hearted scan of the room affirmed. Everyone else seemed to have booked. Besides the good man manning the alcoholic beverages, Jamie was alone. Alone with the captain across from her at the table.

Her nose was still bleeding.

The captain watched her silently as she sighed and reached for the napkin dispenser. Just what she needed. A babysitting audience. Great. He probably wanted to make sure she didn’t run after his cadets like the lunatic she was. Smart guy.

Jamie disregarded the painful stab of pain as she lazily stuffed some napkins up her nostrils and tugged on the towel. Whoever had put it there was either condescending or a genuine nicety, but either way, Jamie wanted to be able to see the man who was staring at her like a disappointed father. She splashed the towel with water and wiped at her bruised eyes.

With the blood mostly gone, the captain spoke up.

“I couldn’t believe it when the bartender told me who you were.” He started in a low, neutral tone.

Apparently, Jamie _did_ know him. Captain Pike. She’d seen the man around the area recently, rooting up recruits, advertising the academy’s next school year. She’d made a point to avoid him, for fear that he would target her seemingly (totally) aimless, wreckless, spirited character as perfect Starfleet breaking ground. He came off that way, anyway, and if she had to take a wild guess as to his immediate purpose at this table, she wouldn’t deviate from the established hypothesis. She was just too pooped to actually get up and leave at the moment. 

Jamie parted her lips to suck in some air, eyeing an abandoned glass of a glowing blue something next to the napkins.

“Yeah?” She drawled, feigning disinterest. What did this man want? “‘N who am I, Captain Pike?”

“You’re your father’s girl.”

Great. Bring Daddy into the mix. Just the thing Jamie’s probably-concussed brain needed to focus on.

She reached for the blue stuff and raised it to her mouth.

“Don’t.” Pike warned. 

But the glass rim had already pressed against the glass shard embedded in Jamie’s lip—which she had, quite honestly, forgotten about. A sick tearing sensation zipped painless through the area of contact, indicating that the shank had just sliced through more of her flesh. With a numb scowl, she picked at it with her grubby hands and slid it out of her skin.

“ _Don’t_.” Pike demanded.

Jamie knew she shouldn’t have. Fresh blood began pouring—without much pomp—from the deep laceration. Hopefully her muscle hadn’t been too severely damaged. Jamie ignored the gushing red and knocked the blue drink back in one swallow. Fat drops of lifesource splattered her shirt. 

Hang on, that drink was pretty good.

“What’s this one?” She waved the glass over her shoulder, but Pike wasn’t concerned with letting her get an answer.

“Apply pressure.” He ordered. He snatched the discarded towel from the table and held it out to her.

Jamie rolled her eyes but did what she was told. This darn towel was never going to be the same. Not likely that the bartender would ever want it back.

Pike stared for a while.

“What?” Jamie huffed. Now her lip was starting to sting—and it stung a lot. “I got somethin’ on my face?”

The captain quirked an eyebrow dryly. “I hope that’s a rhetorical question. And if not, answer for yourself.”

Jamie lowered her gaze. “Now now,” She grumbled half-heartedly. “Let’s not make this about me now,”

“Of course not.” Pike agreed. For the first distinguishable time, his tone betrayed emotion, and Jamie was surprised to find that it was amusement. This made her hot for some reason. Was he laughing at her? It was a completely warranted reaction, but she didn’t like it any more.

“For my dissertation, I was assigned to the USS Kelvin.” He picked up while Jamie tried to ignore him pointedly. 

Had her nose stopped bleeding yet? It was going to be tender for days. No sleeping on her face for a while, unfortunately—unless she actually decided to go with Pike and received adequate medical attention along the way, which she was not entirely keen on at the moment.

“Something about your dad that I admired,”

Jamie’s hand tightened around the towel involuntarily, sharply jerking the torn skin. She was unable to contain a hiss. She didn’t want to talk about her dad. She didn’t want to hear his stories, least of all _that_ one. Not now. Not when her head was pounding and her mouth was on fire and the pain so dull and raw that the tears were hot in her eyes. Had her nose stopped bleeding?

Pike was staring at her in earnest, clearly desiring her full attention. But Jamie didn’t want to give it.

“He didn’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

Jamie flicked the napkin in her right nostril and experimentally ripped both out with her free hand. No new blood started pouring from the cavity, which was good. Just some blobby platelets, and runny mucus that Jamie affectionately referred to as `nose drool`. The bartender told her to toss any garbage on the floor. He would sweep it all up, don’t worry sweetheart.

Jamie snorted through her mouth. She swiped the bodily fluid from her nose as gently as possible with another crumpled-up napkin. “Yeah. He sure learned his lesson.”

Pike seemed unmoved. “That depends on how you define winning. You’re here, aren’t you?”

_George Kirk saved hundreds of lives._

_His sacrifice made him a hero._

_He protected his family._

_He saved his newborn child._

_He saved them all._

Jamie did _not_ want to hear about her father. She did _not_ want these hot tears to fall.

“Thanks.” But she wasn’t expressing genuine gratitude, which Pike seemed to know.

He plowed on. “You know that instinct to leap without looking, that was his nature too—and in my opinion, something Starfleet’s lost.”

Did he seriously refer to her self-destructive, impulsive behavior as an admirable quality? As in, something he wanted a galactic peace-keeping federation to display more of? Where in the world was this conversation going?

Jamie shook her head and tried to smile around the towel. The action brought more tears to her overflowing lids. “Why are you talking to me, man?”

The Captain wasn’t phased. “Because I looked up your file while you were drooling on the floor.”

Okay, yeah, she deserved that.

“Your aptitude tests are off the charts, so what is it? You like being the only genius-level repeat-offender in the Midwest?”

His neutral mysteriousness was starting to annoy Jamie. “Maybe I love it.”

“So your dad dies, you can settle for less than ordinary life,” The intonation of his voice suggested disappointment. Surprising, how much it bothered and affected Jamie.

“When you feel like you were meant for something better?”

Jamie didn’t need anyone to tell her she was wasting everything God gave her, she already _knew_ that. 

“Something special?”

What a speech. Did she feel made for something special? Eh, no. Not really. She just knew that she was. Special daddy, special birthday, special brother, special mom. Special tragedy. And while she didn’t want to be this unique, this _other_ , she couldn’t change who she was. Only live as herself. With herself. It wasn’t supposed to be that hard.

But nothing was working, and so it was hard.

“Enlist in Starfleet.”

The sudden proposal caught Jamie off guard. She laughed small, humorlessly. “Enli—ha! You guys must be way down in your recruiting quota for the month—”

“If you’re half the person your father was, buddy, Starfleet could use you.”

Jamie was not impressed. Was this man serious? Join Starfleet? He’d sat her down, built up the intrigue with her dead father, all so he could tell her to hop on the Federation. Disappointing. Did he not respect her? Was that it? Because he seemed genuine, like as if he actually cared for her life, and Jamie had no idea what to do with that.

Still, the run-of-the-mill advertisement was leaking through. Jamie was done. As much effort as the captain was putting into the ordeal, as much as it seemed he really was trying, she was far too upset to accept a single offer he had to give just then. Even if she’d been dreaming about these things since she was old enough to see the stars.

“You can be a captain in four years.”

An involuntary thrill raced down Jamie’s spine. It was quickly replaced by sadness.

“You can have your own ship in eight.” 

She sighed.

“You understand what the Federation is, don’t you?”

Her head was getting clearer, and when she kicked, her legs moved. Nice. If she tried to stand up, she probably wouldn’t fall. 

“It’s important.” Pike insisted. “It’s a peacekeeping and humanitarian armada—”

“Are you done?” She suddenly pulled the towel from her lip, feeling the dried blood crackle as she spoke. Jamie was being a jerk. She was being a royal pain in the keister, she could tell. But who could bear to sit and listen to that patronizing montage? She was tired, and she hurt, and she didn’t want to hear about her father.

But,

It hurt a lot more when Pike tapped the table curtly and nodded. “I’m done.” He said, in the most indifferent tone yet. Jamie’s heart did something weirdly uncomfortable. Why did she feel like she had just majorly screwed up? It wouldn’t be the first time. Not by any means. Only now, the _wrongness_ of the situation was practically tangible. It urged Jamie to sit back down, even as she rose shakily from her chair.

She nodded back.

Some desolate recess of her mind begged her to stop and listen to this man, but she ignored her logical side like always, and tossed the bloody towel on the table. It was time to walk away. Just accept her failure and quit being a bother. Get out of their hair. Bartender needed to close up shop, anyway.

“Jamie,”

The captain called, before she could turn completely. Her heart swelled against her will.

“Riverside shipyard. Shuttle for new recruits leaves tomorrow, at 0800.”

He was giving her a chance. He was giving her a second chance. She stared for a few seconds. Her lip needed a butterfly bandage.

Some softness came over Pike’s face, and he broke her gaze long enough to study the saltshaker on the table. “Your father was captain of a starship for twelve minutes.” Were the words murmured. “He saved eight-hundred lives, including your mother’s. And yours.” Then, a miracle happened. The corner of his mouth turned up, and he smiled. A mischievous, endeared smile, as if it had been there all along, and all she’d had to do was wait for it.

“I dare you to do better.”

Jamie walked away. She needed sleep. She needed to find a nice pile of fodder and literally hit the hay. It must be late. It must be early. Out here in the middle of nowhere, it was easy to see the stars—and they were starting to set. Jamie tried not to think about owning them as she strode from the bar and out into the thankless dark.

 _Join Starfleet_.

She’d be lying to say she’d never considered the prospect before, and many times at that. She’d be lying to say her heart didn’t hum at the thought of sitting in the chair, exploring new worlds, leading missions, and making a difference.

As tired as Jamie was, the sudden realization that she _wanted_ this was so overwhelming, she didn’t get any sleep that night. Pike’s words echoed in her mind. She laid still on her back, hands folded sloppily over her sore gut, excitement building. She could do this. She needed to do this. She wasn’t a pussy, after all; never one to turn down a dare.

The stars sparkled invitingly, almost like a challenge. No one knew how far they went. Jamie wanted to find out.

Out in the open like she was, back to the grass of the only hill for miles, her bike provided all the light apart from those glittering celestial bodies.

“I’m gonna do it, Daddy.” Jamie whispered into the night. 

She liked to think that those three flashing stars were signs of his approval. Her dry eyes started to well again. Would this be something he wanted too—wanted her to pursue? Yes. He’d tell her to shoot higher. Would he be proud of her if he could see her now? Beaten, bloody, running down a dead end? No. 

But Jamie was going to change that.

“For you.”


	2. Time Takes too Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie meets big brother Bones

Jamie was not presentable. She looked like trash. Like she’d spent the night in a dumpster. There was probably glass caught in the tangles of her ponytail, and not a single piece of her clothing wasn’t stained brown by last night’s violence. Two bandages held her face together. One over her lip, the other straining with her nose (surprising how fast the swelling had gone down). Nevertheless, Jamie sauntered up to the shuttle like she belonged there. Too bad the bike couldn’t complete the look.

“Four years?” She called as she clambered up the ramp.

Pike watched her with a veiled expression, but he looked about as amused and pleased as ever, if Jamie would be forced to guess. She grinned with the side of her mouth not currently shredded.

“Imma do it in three.”

She turned away to allow him the satisfaction of a smile.

The four cadets saw her and stared. She saluted cheekily, and maintained her pain-in-the-keister demeanor. Uhura happened to be in the row of seats across from her. She made a face and shot a finger gun while the linguist did her best not to smile.

Struggling with the seatbelt no doubt looked dumb, but at least Jamie wasn’t alone for much longer. The sounds of an impressive altercation soon filled the hull, and Jamie—out of her nosy nature—turned to stare at the tall man blocking the vestibule. He too was dressed casual, or at least in civilian get-up. He, however, looked a lot more mild on the walking-garbage scale, and he had a backpack with him.

“— _ told _ you, I don’t need a doctor, I am a doctor!”

“Sir, take a seat.”

“I had a seat in the bathroom with no windows!”

Jamie noted mildly that the only open seat on the shuttle was now right next to her. If this guy was testy, she really didn’t want to set him off. She hurt in enough different places as it was. All the same, he seemed like a fun guy to be acquainted with.

The lieutenant ushered him closer to Jamie despite his protests. He was a tall, strong guy; he should have been able to resist her. However, he staggered, and his eyes sported impressive bags. Maybe dehydrated. Hey, when was the last time Jamie drank any water? She was probably dehydrated too. Especially after losing so much blood the night before. She  _ had _ splashed some tap on her face, but that probably didn’t count.

“Sir, you need to sit down  _ now _ , or else I’ll make you sit down.” The lieutenant’s tone was harsh and threatening. Even though she was petite, she clearly meant business, and the man eventually complied. He dumped his things on the floor with a growl and plopped into the chair next to Jamie, yanking hard on the seatbelt.

Never before had a person so aggressively told her they’d vomit in her lap. It was a little startling. Jamie, in spite of all her wild defaults, was a little taken aback. She raised her eyebrows at the older man.

“Eh… I think these things are  _ pretty _ safe.”

“Don’t pander to  _ me _ , kid.” The man snarled. He proceeded with a rehearsed rant about just a  _ handful _ of excruciating possibilities for space travel, sarcastic, judgy, and generally pissed at everything. Why was he here? Jamie decided right then that she liked him.

“Space is a disease.”

“Hate to break it to ya, dude, but Starfleet kind of operates in space.”

His anger sputtered. “Well, ain’t got nowhere else to go.” An old fashioned flask he produced from his satchel. “Wife took the whole dang planet in the divorce, now I got nothin’ left but my bones.” He swigged from the flask.

His bones? Haha. Jamie pursed her lips to keep from smiling. 

“Name’s Kirk.” She gave. Because she needed friends and it looked like he could use one. “Jamie T. Kirk.”

He offered the flask to her. Cool, she’d never drunk from one before. As she took a polite sip of some of the  _ strongest freaking alcohol in the whole da-gon galaxy _ , she heard the man mutter, “McCoy. Leonard McCoy.” Or something to that effect. She was too focused on trying not to dissolve as she carefully passed the flask back. And ah, what did it matter if she forgot his name? She’d probably find out again. And in the meantime, `Bones` was more than suitable. A grim, gruesome title for a charming southern dame.

“Area  _ fifty-one _ !” Jamie choked when the alcohol hit her stomach. A fiery cough tried to burn its way up her esophagus. “Consuming rocket fuel is ballsy, but that can’t be good for your health.”

“Darn straight.” Bones grumbled, and chugged the flask dry.


	3. Pursuing Fantasies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have tact. A true plot genius.
> 
> Jamie is on an accelerated curriculum. And Uhura’s professor is hot.

Jamie was slaving over a paper in the common room when Uhura waltzed in.

“My linguistics professor is ho-o-ot!” She sang cheerfully, pirouetting with a fancy twist before landing in an armchair. 

Bones looked up from his computer and scowled. “The heck?” He muttered. Gaila perked up.

“He’s unfairly hot.” Uhura sighed.

“Your professor.”

“Wow, roomie, I didn’t take you for the type—” Gaila started, but Jamie came to the end of her sentence and chose that moment to look up.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Why are you making her repeat—”

“My linguistics professor is hot.” Uhura repeated. She pulled a mini tablet from her bag and carried on as if nothing monumental had happened. 

Jamie blinked in surprise. “Um—what?”

“By the stars, Jamie, she’s already said it three times!”

In accordance with Gaila, Jamie really hadn’t pegged Uhura as the type.

“O-o-okay…”

“I didn’t realize you started the course today.”

“Nah, today was just the first lecture. Like, the first time we got to meet him and all that. Woah…” Uhura held a hand to her chest and took a deep breath. She pretended to fall against the back of the chair. “Sorry, I need a minute. I’m still recovering.”

Jamie chuckled. Bones rolled his eyes. Being almost an entire decade their senior (Jamie teased him about being old), he was probably over any childish crushes, simply annoyed by the whole professor-fancy thing. Not that he could be blamed. They were all kind of acting like middle-schoolers.

“I honestly have no idea what happened in the rest of my classes. He’s just too distracting.”

The paper was becoming of less interest. It could wait five minutes. Jamie nudged her tablet aside. “Okay well don’t stop there.”

“Jamie—!”

“Come on, tell us! Is he sexy? Does he have kissable lips?”

Uhura grinned and played along. “Definitely. He’s got these gorgeous cheekbones, and his eyes are the prettiest shade of I’d-nail-you-to-a-desk,”

Bones dropped his face into the couch cushions and groaned. It was more like a mild scream of pain, but the three girls ignored him.

Uhura jumped to her feet. “And his body just—” She grinned and shimmied her shoulders, moving the dance down to rock her hips. “Lean, strong, slender at the same time? How does he do that? It’s delicious.”

Gaila and Jamie laughed.

“Sharp eyebrows, like severely sharp eyebrows. Perfect nose. I’d bite his lips, oh man.”

“Would you really?” Jamie teased.

Uhura gave a good-natured laugh and plopped back into her chair. “Nah, he’s just unfairly attractive. And there’s no way he’d consent to that anyhow. He’s such a rule follower, if he even  _ thought _ about something so scandalous, he’d probably break out in hives.”

Jamie made a face. “Aw, boo. Well that about cancels everything else out.”

“It certainly makes for an interesting challenge,” Gaila gave a predatory grin.

“Ugh!”

Bones pulled his face from the cushions and fixed the red-head with a scowl. “Young lady, that is absolutely disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Gaila giggled.

“Well…” Uhura got that look again, where she was gearing up a tentative idea that would piss one side off in any crackhead debate. Her lips turned down in a smile. “You know, he’s not that much older than we are.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he only graduated just last year.”

“You’re kidding!” That was impressive, to say the least. Jamie was impressed. How did you graduate and become a professor so quickly? And maybe more importantly, why would you want to do it right after your graduation? Weren’t there ships to command, stars to see, adventures to be had?

“Nope. He’s a young guy. Though I’m sure age would come nowhere near to compromising his attractiveness.”

Bones appeared to be in a state of complete disgust (which wasn’t entirely uncommon), and he pulled his legs up onto the couch to be as far away from Gaila as possible.

“Had you never seen a picture of him before?”

“Oh, I had, but it’s a little different when it’s staring you in the face, you know?”

“Pfft.”

“Also, his voice…”

“Ah great.”

“You guys remember learning about weird culture swings in the 2000s? I think one of the trends was something called ASMR—he could totally do that. Like, he could take your virginity just by saying your name.”

“Okay Uhura, that might be a little much.”

She grinned. “He’s nice otherwise. I doubt he realizes how much of an impact he has on the female half of the class.”

“Wow, sounds like the package. Can I have him?”

“Shut up Gaila.”

“Focus less on who you can have sex with and more on, you know, actual school. Like the reason we’re all here?”

“Technically, the reason we’re all here is debatable.”

“Jamie, you seriously  _ cannot _ talk about guys. You’ve been through like, three, in the past month.”

“True, but I am  _ more _ concerned about school.” She reclaimed her tablet from the couch and held it up pointedly.

“Not sure whether to be inspired or disturbed.”

“Why not have both?”

“Excuse me, what exactly are you working on at this exact moment? School only started a week ago.”

Jamie pursed her lips and tried to regain her train of thought. This paper was for bio, and it technically wasn’t due for another couple of months. Regardless, she was on a time crunch. “A paper for bio.”

“They’re assigning already?”

“No, but I managed to get the prompt early. I’m on an accelerated curriculum, remember?”

Bones’ eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you were serious?” (He was, as of yet, the only person besides Pike whom she’d notified of her academic intentions).

“Yeah.”

“That whole three-year thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow Darlin’, didn’t think you could get any crazier.”

She scoffed and felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She wasn’t crazy, she was just stupidly prideful, and she had no mouth filter. She was obligated to hold true to that one  _ blasted _ throwaway comment she’d made to Pike, and now she was on an accelerated curriculum in three of her four courses. 

“What? You’re trying to graduate in three years?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s insane! It’s too hard!”

“I can do it.”

“Maybe. If you had a wizard tutor.”

Jamie glanced up. “No. No way. Are you kidding?”

Uhura gave a cheeky smile.

“No way would I ask that  _ Vulcan _ of a professor for help, regardless of how attractive you say he is.”

She laughed. “You know, he actually  _ is _ Vulcan.”

“Even worse! And I don’t need a tutor. I study just fine on my own.”

Bones scoffed. “Oh please, if I have even an inkling of an idea what you mean by the word `study`, then you could definitely use some Vulcan-level supervision.”

Gaila was amused by the suggestion. “Why McCoy! I didn’t take you for the type to slash—”

“That’s it!” Bones grabbed his tablet and leapt from the couch. “I’m going back to my dorm! Y’all have a good night.”

Jamie laughed at his receding form. “Good night, brother!”


	4. Honey on the Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie exposes Uhura like any terrible friend. But it’s funny. So can we really blame her?

Throughout Jamie’s experience at the academy, she really didn’t see the Vulcan professor as often as she might have. It wasn’t like there was a reason, after all, the two having no personal relations. But after the first encounter, Jamie was mildly intrigued, and the next handful of meetings were significantly far from vexing.

Uhura and Jamie had been on their way to lunch, halfway through the second week of classes. Jamie was in a chipper mood, being her usual annoying self, and Uhura was barely functioning on five shots of espresso. No surprise then, that Jamie—skipping circles around her friend—would be quite a bother. 

“I don’t see why it’s such a problem.” Jamie sang innocently. “If you prioritize, you could be done in a week, tops.”

Uhura scowled. “Were you even listening? They’re all the same level priority. And not to boost your ego, Kirk, but a week for you means a month for me.”

How amusing. True, Jamie definitely did  _ not _ need any added pride, but she liked hearing it from her friend, who only dished out compliments when she wasn’t paying attention. Jamie turned on her heel and hopped backwards.

“Oh come on, Sis! Don’t be like that.” She grinned to one side, minding the cut on her lip even though it had already closed over. “Have a little more faith in yourself. There’s gotta be a way to rank those projects in order, even based on personal preference?”

Uhura gave her a dry look. “Would you face the direction you’re moving?”

“Think of it this way.” Jamie skipped her heels together, ignoring the tired glare. “You like your language classes most, right? That’s what you want to major in? Work on that fi—”

“It’s not that simple. And would you  _ please _ turn around? You’re going to run into something.”

“Thing is, you won’t be able to accordingly land those subjects if you don’t proportion the effort right. Right?” She tilted her head and hummed thoughtfully. “So I think—”

“Kirk!”

They walked past a bend in the hallway, and Jamie, unable to see where she was going, felt a sudden weight slam into her body. She should have listened to Uhura. Consequently, a surprised yelp escaped her lips at the same time her assailant grunted like the wind had been knocked from their lungs.

It was too late to stabilize. Jamie hadn’t been sure-footed to begin with, but her imbalance, combined with her lack of visual, and the abrupt interruption of her walking path made for certain that she went down hard.

Her stupid feet tripped wildly over someone’s legs, and in a second, her butt slammed down sharply against the unforgiving floor.

“Ow!” She shouted.

“Jamie!” Uhura cried again, and reached to help the other person up. Wow, what a friend.

“Ow.” Jamie repeated, more like a grumble, and sat there for a few seconds to wallow in the pain. She should apologize to whomever she’d just knocked over. Her tailbone hurt. Dull throbbing flared up her spine.

“Professor, I’m so sorry—” Uhura said for her.

The response came in a rich, strained voice. “It’s quite alright, Cadet Uhura. It seems you were not at fault.” 

Jamie tilted her head and looked up. 

Oh  _ wow _ .

Her eyebrows shot skyward. Uhura hadn’t been lying. That professor was  _ fine _ . Jamie was probably gaping.

“ _ My _ fault then.” She said aloud, and allowed her lips to pull to one side in her trademark grin. The enticing emotionlessness of his face was a wonderful intrigue. Despite the vulgar description her friend had first used, Jamie found that his eyes were a really nice hue of chocolate. She wondered what it would take to turn that hard stare into a warm, soft smile. As Gaila had said, an interesting challenge.

The clearly-Vulcan man parted his definitely-kissable lips—likely in order to reprimand Jamie for her inattentiveness—but said Cadet was a little too mischievous to allow that.

“Hang on, Uhura,” Her butt was still smack down on the floor, as if she planned on staying there for a while, and her legs were sprawled out in a careless, and kind of immodest fashion. Not that it actually was inappropriate; Starfleet saw to it that their uniforms were nothing but acceptable. “Sis, is  _ this _ the Vulcan professor? Linguistics, if I wasn’t mistaken?”

Probably, yes. Jamie was pretty sure there were only a handful of Vulcan staff at the academy, and this one was a) hot, and b) in clear relation to Uhura. Simple deduction stated that he was her teacher.

Jamie’s conclusion proved accurate when Uhura’s eyes widened.

“Um, that’s not—”

“Indeed, I am Professor Spock.” The man introduced. “And who might you be?”

Jamie flashed the customary salute (really the  _ only _ thing she’d picked up from Pike’s diplomatics Vulcan unit before she fell asleep) and leaned back on her other hand. “Uhura’s floormate. Many apologies for knocking ya over, Sir. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She turned to the woman and literally  _ felt _ her eyes flash diabolically. “You did not even cover the full extent of this man’s attractiveness. He’s way hotter than you said.”

Uhura’s mouth dropped open, and her skin turned the same shade as her uniform. “Wha—I—that’s not what—”

The professor blinked. “Forgive me, I am not entirely acquainted with human vernacular but—”

“Ignore her, Sir!” Uhura squeaked. “Um, I know you must be busy. Sorry to interrupt you! It won’t happen again!” She all but pushed him down the hall.

Jamie felt far more smug than she had any right to be. If Vulcans could feel, he probably would have appeared confused. A common reaction to Jamie T. Kirk.

“Are you  _ nuts _ ?” Uhura hissed when he reluctantly walked away. 

Jamie shrugged. “He’s way hotter than you said.”

Uhura delivered a particularly severe kick to Jamie’s foot. “You’re a terrible person! Embarrass me in front of my professor like that—how the heck am I supposed to go to class tomorrow?”

Jamie shrugged again and laughed, trying to block another harsh blow. At Professor Spock’s retreating form, she just barely saw him cast a backward glance, and then the encounter was over.

“Go to sleep early, Uhura. Drink some water. You’ll figure it out.”

Without another word, the feisty woman snapped on her heel and began marching away towards the cafeteria. She may have huffed. And she may have stomped like a child. Jamie grinned to herself.

However, the victory proved to be fairly short-lived, because when classes ended the next day, Uhura stormed into the common room where Jamie was trying to crack down another paper and threw a book at her head.

“You butt-hole!” She yelled accusingly. And that was the only indication that Jamie was in danger. Unfortunately, she had so little time to react, that when she finally noticed Uhura had entered the room at all, the flat side of the book had already smacked into Jamie’s temple with a dull  _ splat _ .

“Ah! What the heck!”

“Hey, watch your language!” Bones chided the assailant from the snack bar (he had neglected to sit at the couch again after discovering how often Gaila picked up dates there).

“ _ You _ almost ruined my linguistics career!” Uhura barked, disregarding both the medical officer and Jamie’s noise of annoyance.

“But did you have to concuss me with your… bio textbook?”

“That thing was useless otherwise. And don’t be childish, it was paper-back.”

Jamie scowled at the phone catalog where it had landed on the carpet, and rubbed her head dramatically. “That’s still mean.”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“Oh, right, excuse me. How exactly have I ruined your linguistics—”

“Youu uuuu uuuuu said that I said my professor was hot—to his face! With me standing  _ right there _ !”

Bones coughed, probably because he’d choked on his spit.

Jamie made a face. “Oh please, I was only reacting. He  _ is _ a lot hotter than you described.”

Uhura plopped down angrily on the couch besides Jamie and glared with her lips pinched tight. “That didn’t give you  _ any _ right—!”

“Well, what’s done is done. I’m sorry it caused you grievance—though not that I said it. What happened?”

Uhura was practically fuming. “He… he… I walked into the lecture hall today, completely dreading it—because you have no spine and give terrible advice—and the whole class, I could barely focus! I was so nervous I might have vomited if I didn’t think it would make the whole situation worse!”

Jamie snorted.

“The whole thing went by uneventfully.”

“Really? Then why—”

“But  _ afterwards _ , he called me down to the front— _ alone _ —and asked if I wanted to switch classes!”

Jamie cocked a single eyebrow. Really? That was it? It didn’t seem  _ too _ bad. “Is that all?”

“You’re not taking this seriously! Do you have any idea what it’s like to transfer this late in the semester?”

“Buuut… it’s only the second week of active—”

“That’s my point! We’re two full weeks into the school year! That’s way too late!”

“Says who? Says you?”

“It’s a simple fact! Especially with linguistics courses. Every professor runs the curriculum differently. If I were to switch now, it would throw my whole schedule off for the rest of the year!”

Jamie sighed. Maybe she had made a bigger mess than it’d seemed. She’d known Uhura for only a short amount of time, but this was the first occasion on which she’d seemed so extremely  _ pissed _ . “Well, surely Professor Sexy knows that, so why’d he suggest it?”

Uhura closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. “And I quote, `Cadet Uhura, it has come to my attention that you find my physical appearance to be particularly attractive.`” (Bones choked again). “`Upon further investigation, I note that it is common for such an instance to produce significant discomfort as per human culture, and while I would customarily discourage a change of instruction given the time of year, I also recognize that it may seem inappropriate to continue as your professor, since I myself deem it wise to avoid any inclination of favoritism. 

“Therefore, I am giving you the opportunity to transfer to the course of another Xeno-linguistics professor, in order that you may maintain the best environment from which to pursue your intended academic goals. You will be excused from any consequences, if this is your choice. Understand that the success of my students is my top priority.` End quote.”

Jamie had already started gaping halfway through the speech, but now it was dead silence and her mouth was still hanging open. Bones had gotten up to find himself some water.

“You… you memorized all of that?”

“I was so traumatized it might as well be burned into my brain!”

“That’s not how traumatic memories work.” Bones mumbled into his glass.

“No one asked you, McCoy.”

“So… so…” Jamie waved her hands in front of her face. “I—what did you say?”

“What could I say?”

“Well, you didn’t switch professors,”

“How could I? I had to explain to him that I was perfectly capable of continuing to work in his class without his handsome face hindering my ability to focus.” Uhura dropped her bag to the ground and curled up on the couch entirely. Her anger burned out, and now she just looked upset. 

Jamie felt bad. She hadn’t meant for one throwaway comment to have such an impact. Unfortunately, she was still too proud to apologize any more than she already had.

“...and he believed you?”

“Well yeah. I pretty much convinced him that it was all your idea.”

Jamie wanted to be indignant, but it was the truth, plain and simple. She shrugged. “Good idea.”

Uhura’s glare flashed for a moment. “Don’t you  _ ever _ do that again, you hear me, Kirk? I swear, I can’t say  _ anything _ in front of you.”

Jamie smiled. Just a dumb, meaningless smile without much of anything behind it. She needed a mouth filter. She needed to learn to control her tongue, and she needed to learn fast. All the same… she didn’t quite want to. It had been kind of fun to have that run-in with the professor, and everything had turned out alright in the end, right? Geez, she was such a bad friend. No wonder she had so few.


	5. The Exact Height of a Car Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big Brother Bones is good for Jamie’s haphazard medical emergencies. I dunno, maybe he’ll be a great CMO someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish I was that tall

Jamie paused on the second level of the stairwell and leaned against the wall for a minute, catching her breath. She was so dizzy, she should have taken the elevator. But the elevator was loud, and it was late—or early, and Jamie didn’t want to make a big fuss about her presence. Especially because it was after curfew. And she was a female. In the males’ dorm complex.

So she was stuck on the second floor of the stairwell of the males’ dorms, about to pass out from a definite concussion. Not to mention her lung was probably bruised. And her ribs cracked. And her ankle badly sprained. On second thought, maybe walking had been a bad idea.

Too late to go back now.

With shaky hands, Jamie grabbed the railing and hauled herself up from where she’d crumpled on the floor. Only one more level to go. She could make it. She just had to stay awake.

Her bottom lip was bleeding by the time she pushed open the third floor door and staggered into the hallway. She’d been biting it to keep from making noise. At least if she got to her destination, it wouldn’t scar like the glass cut had. 

That scar from the bar fight all those months ago, it didn’t seem intent on fading. It appeared just as crisp and white with each passing day, stretching like a falling star whenever she wanted to smile. She wasn’t smiling now.

It was dark, and hard to see. Jamie’s hand slid against the wall so she could keep balance, but she tried to minimize the contact as much as possible, because she couldn’t tell if she was leaving a trail of red on the neutral plaster. The lack of luminance was making her vision swim.

She almost missed the door. It took a few seconds squinting at it to verify that she had the right number.

Her arm trembled as she knocked.

It was a quiet knock—because the aim was discretion—but the longer Jamie stood there waiting, watching her eyesight go to pot, she began to wonder if she shouldn’t just screw discretion and bang until he opened up. Thankfully, she didn’t have to decide.

The door swung in after a lifeage of moments, revealing a highly disgruntled man in a white tank top and checkered pajama pants. His hair was tousled, and bags darkened his eyes. A firm scowl pinched his lips. Jamie’s arm was raised to knock again.

He squinted. “Jamie?” Even his voice was crackly with sleep. She really should have minded the time. Oh well.

Jamie cleared her throat and tried to lean against the wall. Unfortunately, she miscalculated, promptly collapsing at the knees, and free-falling for a painful faceplant.

He lurched forward to catch her.

“Woah, woah, what’s going on?”

His grip on her shoulders sent a jolt of motion to her banged-up chest. Jamie let out a muffled yelp.

“Nothing,” She panted through clenched teeth. “But… if it’s not too much trouble—”

“Are you kidding? Get in here!” He rearranged his hold. Faintly, the door squeaked and swung shut. Jamie was pretty sure he’d scooped her up.

“Lights.” His tired voice murmured.

Jamie cried out again when the room turned bright, throwing a hand to her now-throbbing head. “Wait! I’m concussed!”

“What the heck, Jamie?”

It was a good thing Bones didn’t have a roommate. A great deal of bad things might have transpired if he had had a roommate. For starters, Jamie would be forced to go to the hospital.

“Good lord, Darlin’,” Bones murmured. He must have finally gotten a good look at her. “What happened to you? I’ll fix it. It’ll be fine.”

Jamie kept a hand firmly plastered over her eyes, even as she felt her body being gently deposited onto the dorm’s empty cot. Her bruised limbs screamed in protest. She did her best not to translate the sound.

“I uh… I got into a fight.”

“Really?”

Footsteps made soft, muffled patterns as Bones moved about the room, gathering medical supplies and other necessary equipment. It was nice to listen to. Jamie wasn’t supposed to fall asleep. 

She was afraid he’d be mad.

He took her lack of a response as confirmation. “Lights, thirty percent.” A bit of the hard, rough quality was returning to his voice. It made him sound testy. It made Jamie nervous. Maybe she shouldn’t have bothered him at this hour. She probably could have slept this off.

“Jamie,”

It was after curfew, too.  _ Way _ after curfew. They would get in so much trouble if they were caught. Not to mention, Bones had work to do for school and stuff. Clinicals to get through, tests to study for, infinite amounts of sleep to catch up on. He didn’t need some idiot girl crashed in his dorm for half the night, what a burden.

“ _ Jamie _ .”

She herself might be free the next day, but that didn’t mean she could just impose on anyone else. Just because she was a coward when it came to hospitals. Just because she  _ knew _ her friend had the most extensive first aid kit known to California stashed on top of the bookshelf in his room. How rude of her. She hadn’t even called in advance.

“Hey, Darlin’ work with me here.” 

She felt the bed dip, and a calloused hand gently peeled her fingers from her eyes. Bones stared at her intently. Jamie tried to meet his gaze, but she couldn’t bring herself to look further up than his nose. She didn’t want to see the full extent of his disappointment.

“What did you say happened?”

Jamie glanced away. “Just a fight.”

He hummed, and she could tell he didn’t believe her. Shoot.

“Where are you hurt?”

A sharp stab of pain cut through the middle of Jamie’s chest, giving her a very redundant reminder. Her whole leg was throbbing now. The room was swimming. She winced.

“My ribs, my left ankle.” Her mouth was dry. Swallowing didn’t help. “My head. My head hurts.”

She could see him nod. “You’ve got a pretty bad concussion.”

“You figured that out, huh?”

The springs in the mattress creaked. “Here,” His hand slid behind her neck, and he propped her head up, like she was a baby who could barely sit without help. She slightly despised him for that, even though he was only trying his best. “The injection will work faster, but I know how much you hate needles.”

(Of course he did. They’d had quite the chance discussion about it before, though never over an actual dosage of medication).

He pushed a gel capsule in between her lips. “It should clear the fuzziness, take the swelling down. Try not to fall asleep, alright?”

Jamie nodded miserably. Swallowing was an effort. A glass of water tipped against her mouth without further prompting. Ah yes, hydration. That was a good thing.

Bones retreated when she’d choked enough down. “I can’t tell the full extent of your injuries just from a glance. Do you want me to—”

“My leg. Fix my leg.” Jamie slumped back against the bed and felt her hands fist. Her chest was absolutely killing her, but she wanted to take a moment to recover from consuming anything before she had to move again and take her shirt off. Her arms trembled ever so slightly. She hoped her friend didn’t notice.

The man’s sigh was barely audible. He did, however, comply with her wishes, proceeding to untangle the laces of her boot and push away the tattered trouser sleeve. 

Lucky thing she’d changed from her uniform before leaving campus that night. Admin would have had a fit, replacing her third school outfit that year.

Bones’ hands gently traced the swollen purple mess. Jamie could taste blood. Stars flashed.

“Everything seems to be in place,” He murmured. “Though that tells me nothing about smaller fractures.” Jamie received a pointed look. “I’d need an x-ray for that.”

She clamped down fiercely on her poor, abused mouth. “If all the bones are where they’re supposed to be, can’t it just heal on its own?”

He sighed again, more forcefully this time. “There’s a program on my PADD. You won’t need to go to the hospital unless you want a higher quality reading.”

“Is that good enough?” Jamie asked in a strained voice.

He stepped away, presumably to gather more medical supplies.

“I… it should be good enough for me. But you know what I’ll say.”

“I’m not a doctor.” A shudder shot down Jamie’s spine.

“Yeah? Well  _ I _ am.”

“Exactly.”

“I’d tell you not to walk on this for at least a week, but I won’t hold my breath.”

Jamie felt the need to apologize for that. “I’m sorry.” She said immediately.

Bones shook his head and held up his PADD. “I don’t want your apologies. I want you to take my advice.”

“I’m sorry.” And she was. She just didn’t know how to make it better. Being without a leg for a week was out of the question. That was far more time than she could afford, with her classes so intense. It had been hard enough to get tomorrow (today?) completely free; if she missed a whole  _ seven _ days, her school registration would be discontinued. She’d have to wait an entire calendar year before she’d be allowed back for any academic reason. It was too late in the game to make that kind of mistake. But then, maybe it was also too late to get hurt this badly on a weekday.

Bones placed the splint on her ankle and started wrapping it.

“I thought you said it wasn’t broken.”

“No, I did not say that. And you’d need a splint for a sprain this bad anyway—knowing how soon you’ll start walking on it, that is.”

Jamie felt really bad. She tried to position her tongue so she could speak functionally. “Look,” Stupid, fat,  _ useless _ tongue. “I’m sorry. You—you don’t have to do this. It’s okay. I’ll probably be fine.”

Bones turned sharply and stared, hands freezing. She couldn’t tell if he was indignant, angry, annoyed, disappointed, surprised, tired, pissed—

“Are you serious?”

Jamie cowered mentally. And maybe a little on the outside too.

Angry. He was angry. And why not? She’d wasted his time. She’d woken him up in the ungodly hours of the morning. What a jerk. Only a jerk would do that. Crap, she was so  _ stupid _ . She should have just gone back to her dorm and slept it off, instead of making a big fuss and wasting McCoy’s time.

“I’m sor—”

“There is  _ no way _ I’m letting you walk from this room without receiving all the medical attention you rightly need.” He paused. “There’s no way I’m letting you  _ walk _ out of this room. I do have to do this.”

???

Jamie opened her mouth to protest. “N-no, really, I’m fine. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” She tried to sit up. “It’s late. Or early. I’m sorry I came by. You need your sleep, God knows that—”

Bones grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back against the cot. “Absolutely not!”

A yelp had already left her mouth before she even had the mind to stop it. She couldn’t breathe right. Every inhale was like a stab to the left side of her ribcage. She couldn’t take a deep breath. It was a little scary.

Bones’ eyes darkened. “Your breathing is erratic.”

“Yeah, I can feel that—”

“Who hurt you?”

“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

“Like heck you will. Let me help—”

“Let me leave!”

“You came to me for help, so I’m going to  _ help _ you, dangit—”

“ _ I’m _ the one who got hit by a hoverbike!” The effort it took to yell quickly depleted Jamie’s lungs, and the pain brought on by the sensation was so fierce her vision started clouding out like a vignette. There wasn’t enough air in her body. Shallow, tiny gasps weren’t enough to sustain her.

“Lift up your shirt.”

“What?”

“ _ Jamie Tyberia Kirk, lift your shirt up NOW _ .”

Tears pooled in her eyes. Jamie chomped her lip and pulled the fabric aside.

Bones swore.

If it looked as impressive as it felt, Jamie was surprised his face wasn’t an entire shade whiter. His mouth hung open.

“Did you know,” He started in a choked voice. “This is the exact height of a—”

“Model VCX-one-hundred fender. I know. Bastard didn’t even stop; I got a good look as he putzed away.”

Bones’ eyes were wide. He stared at Jamie in horror. “I… I can see the impression of the grill.”

A single tear rolled out of Jamie’s left eye. She could imagine what it must look like. A solid purple line, easily a hand’s breadth wide, spanning the length of her body just below her breasts. She hadn’t felt the skin break, or any blood spew out, but she might have been mistaken.

“You’re going to need stitches.” Bones informed.

There it was.

“I’m going to write you a waiver from physical education for the next week.”

“But—!”

“Any sooner and you’ll cause  _ permanent nerve damage _ .”

Crap.

He shook his head slowly. “What did that son of a mother want?”

Jamie closed her eyes tight. “I was just trying to help.”

“You could have died.”

“Thanks.”

She wasn’t sure how long it took Bones to run the x-ray on his PADD. It was long enough. Just because the meds made it easier to resist falling asleep, didn’t mean she didn’t also feel the urge to pass out. She was fighting both with as much vigor as she could muster.

“Your twenty-third, twenty-first, and twentieth ribs are sustaining complex fractures.”

That would explain the additional back pain.

“I’ll give you some regen pills, but—and I cannot stress this enough— _ don’t move your torso _ . Not for at least twelve hours. You’ll cancel all the progress of the meds. No walking, no sitting, especially no bending at the waist.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“I’ll call in for your classes.”

Jamie pursed her bloody lips. “I don’t have any classes today. Tomorrow?”

“Today.” He murmured, giving her an odd look. “It’s four in the morning.”

Oh. Crap. She really was a terrible friend.

“You can stay here until it’s okay to get up. Probably wouldn’t hurt to sleep your twelve hours away.”

“What? No! I—I can’t stay, I’m not supposed to be in the male dorms—”

“Oh please, when was the last time you genuinely cared about breaking that sort of rule?”

Jamie’s cheeks felt hot. “It’s not that. I don’t want to be a drag.”

Bones raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You’re fine. I have all day today free, you know.”

Oh.

“Oh. Really?”

He sighed. It seemed he was doing that a lot. Jamie’s fault. A lot of things were her fault. Two more tears spilled over. 

“I… don’t imagine you envisioned spending your free time with me, though. If you could just help me back to my dorm—”

“That ain’t happening, Darlin’.” His tone was firm, and his scowl was fierce. “God knows if I turn you loose, you’ll end up that much worse off. So it’s a no. And it’s not up for discussion.”

Her lip trembled, and her pitiful “Okay” cracked as it came out.

Bones fixed her chest. She wasn’t sure how long that took either. It was a while, to say the least. And it hurt. Not that Jamie could be bothered by it hurting. She was struggling just to breathe. She was an impulsive moron. Even though she was still about as tense as a dead rabbit, it was surprisingly… nice—it was nice to be ordered not to move. Not because it would be more convenient, but because the bossy individual genuinely seemed to care about her wellbeing. That was nice. And as tense as Jamie was, she gradually began to relax under Bones’ pissy glare and grouchy words.

Because it became increasingly clear that he  _ cared _ —and how refreshing.

When he’d finally finished trussing her in wraps and bandages, and all her clothing was back in place, Bones passed her a handful of pills and another tall glass of water. 

Thank all she hadn’t had to take her bra off. That would have been seriously awkward. Not that she would have been really embarrassed or anything (Bones  _ was _ older by a considerable bit, and he  _ was _ a doctor), but he might have been made uncomfortable because they were friends, and they’d only known each other for a few months.

“Alright Darlin’, just lay on back now.” He took the by-then-empty glass of water and set it aside. The extra pillow from the desk chair materialized in his hands. He slipped it beneath her head. “I’ll stop by your dorm later and pick up a change of clothes. Just try to sleep. And don’t move, got it?”

Whatever sedative had been thrown into the pill pile was starting to make its presence known. Jamie managed a sleepy nod. It was early. It had been a while since last she’d gotten real shut-eye. “Okay.” She mumbled. And though she was almost half-conscious, it sounded surer than before.

Bones’ lips twitched. “Yeah right, kid.” He reached over and tucked her hair away. “Listen, I know you got a lot of allergies, so anything like this happens again, you come straight to me. Understand? It du’n’t matter what time it is. I’ll take care of you.”

Jamie’s lips twitched too. “You remind me of my brother.” She sighed. “He used to look out for me.”

Hands touched her shoulders, her arms, her wrists. She felt her fingers squeezed lightly, and then a blanket fluttered down on her battered body.

“Sleep well then, sister.”

“G’night Bones.”

“You know I told you to stop calling me that.”

“G’night, Bones.”

“...g’night.”


	6. Candle in the Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie stages her largest-scale prank ever on the entire freshman class. Of course, how else was she supposed to appreciate the beautiful snowfall?

The moment deserved a moment of appreciation. Just a step back, dedicated to being in total and utter awe of the genius behind it. Jamie’s chest swelled with pride. She liked to think that if her Daddy had been there to see it, he would be proud too.

The entire freshman class of Starfleet Academy was gathered in the main courtyard. All one-and-a-half-thousand of them. And it was December twenty-fourth. And it was snowing.

That is to say, snow was falling down _on top_ of the astounding one foot already accumulated, which was a rare occurrence for San Francisco, California, and if you asked Jamie: a sign that this was meant to be. 

The grassy knolls were rolling drifts, the pathways had been messily trampled and salted—in that order. Not ideal for mobile purposes, but perfect conditions for what Jamie was planning. 

Really, her plan had worked perfectly.

Phase one of the plan had cost her a total of twelve nights without sleep, but she was chugging along just fine on an equal parts coffee, sugar, and cream blend, and if she single-handedly managed to pull this thing off, every lost second was going to be worth it.

Phase one of the plan had entailed a highly complex orchestration of Jamie’s most elaborate prank to date. The whole thing had been an ongoing endeavor since the beginning of the month, but things really started to pick up the closer to Christmas they got. A candy cane here, a gingerbread cookie there, gumdrops and icicles and cheap dollar-store tinsel. Trumpeting angels, jingling bells, fiiiiiiive golden rings. 

She’d been leaving stuff in the professors’ offices, lecture halls, even their own briefcases and satchels, anywhere it might be found. This had required some help from her extensive list of associates, but Jamie didn’t mind owing favors so long as she got everyone— _everyone_ —every day. Only then would she allow herself to eat the little advent calendar chocolate at night.

(Sam had been really into the “Christmas spirit”. This was a fun way to continue the tradition, even if he wasn’t there to partake).

Over time, the gift drops became less benign and more obnoxious. Jamie fondly remembered a shocking count of three-hundred sixty-four elf-on-the-self-s she’d managed to balance onto Pike’s desk one day, and the mess of building a lifesize gingerbread house in Professor Spock’s office the next. 

It was hard work. It was hard, thankless work. Well—the thankless bit was mostly Jamie’s fault, because she was keeping it a secret from all persons whose names weren’t `Leonard “Bones” McCoy` (he’d made her confess after treating a terrifying reaction of hers to candy canes). Pike probably had an inkling, and possibly Gaila and Uhura too, though Jamie had never outright said anything to any of them.

And now, just as planned, the freshmen Admin had narrowed the identity of the perpetrator down to a freshman (Jamie’s class), and had called an assembly of those students in the main courtyard on the eve of Christmas to speech about the matter. All the freshmen professors were there too, standing at the edges of the big mass of cadet bodies, trying to take everything seriously while simultaneously munching on treats left by the secret sneak.

A stage had been set up. There were large screens projecting annoyed, cold Admin faces. They didn’t seem too happy to be caught out in the snow. Maybe Jamie could remedy that.

She quickly located her friends in the crowd. They were standing near the back (awesome), looking almost as grumpy as the staffers yammering on up front. Or maybe that was just Bones. He always looked grumpy.

Jamie noted with pleasure that he was wearing her scarf. Gaila’s fuzzy pink earmuffs were also a gift from her. And Uhura’s coat was the stylish red trench that Jamie had let her keep after loaning it for a date two weeks before. Wonderful. They looked fabulous. Now, to fix that.

“...why are we here again?” Gaila could be heard whining more clearly the closer Jamie got. Her floormate’s green, gloveless hands were shoved deep into her pockets, her shoulders were shrugged as high as they would go, and her whole body bounced as she flexed her toes.

“They’re trying to find out who’s been pranking the professors with Christmas stuff.” Uhura sighed. “Though I’m going to have to lose faith in them if they think whoever did it is just—going to step forward right now.”

Bones crossed his arms and scanned the crowd in front of him. “I dunno,” He murmured. “Wouldn’t rule out any possibilities just yet.”

Good man. He was right on. Though Jamie didn’t plan on revealing herself quite so plainly. Where was the fun in that? She had her reputation to consider, after all. And her own personal flair. On her way over, she ducked down to the nearest sidewalk and scooped up a wonderful armful of snow. It was time for phase two of the plan.

The Admins continued to drone on from where they were. How dull. Most of the professors were near the front of the assembly. Hopefully, by the time anyone had a mind to stop Jamie, it would already be too late.

Uhura’s eyes narrowed. Her voice got quiet, and just the barest bit intense, like she was on high alert. Jamie snuck up behind them.

“...this is starting to feel like a setup.”

The time was now.

Breaking into a crooked, devilish smirk, Jamie lowered her voice to menacing qualities and said, “You assume correctly.” In the creepiest tone she could muster. The three cadets didn’t have a second to react before she stood up on her tiptoes, and unloaded her arms on their heads.

Gaila squealed, Uhura shrieked, Bones yelled and nearly tripped into a faceplant.

Retribution was swift.

In one fluid motion, Uhura whirled around and shoved Jamie hard, sending the blonde right back into a snow drift. They’d caught the attention of some surrounding cadets. 

Good. Gooooooood.

“Jamie T. Kirk!” Uhura shouted.

Jamie laughed. She was stuck in a snowbank and it was Christmas Eve.

“You dastardly son of a nugget!” Bones recovered quickly and helped Uhura chide the mischievous cadet. Their angry words soon overlapped, rising in volume, pulling more eyes from the screen up front and towards their altercation instead.

Gaila, however, acted first. Pushing Bones aside, she advanced on Jamie and kicked; the force of her stylish boot sent packed snow cascading into the offender’s face.

“Ack—pthppff—!”

“You could have ruined my hair!” She kicked again. Bones seemed to think this was a revolutionary idea. He scooped up a handful of fallen crystals and hurled it into Jamie’s chest. _Splat_. She deserved that.

“Ah! Alright, it’s so on!” She was literally surrounded by snow. Flailing arms returned fire. It was a good thing the snow was packing snow. That made it easy to form balls and fling them fast. 

Uhura shouted and hid behind her arms.

Fortunately, not all of the projectiles hit Jamie’s three primary targets. Some of her munitions went wild, missing her friends completely, nailing innocent onlookers with merciless force.

This, of course, inspired said onlookers to retaliate, giving shouts of glee as they hastily bent to gather snow in their hands. The excited ones promptly betrayed their friends. Others started yelling in displeasure and fleeing the courtyard—though they were few in number.

Mission success. It was complete chaos from there.

Jamie took the opportunity to wriggle out of the snowdrift and dive across the sidewalk. Bones yelled her name and gave chase. 

“Jamie!” He growled, pushing through the teeming crowd.

A few teachers and staffers were desperately trying to control the growing number of involved students. The rest, on the other hand, simply broke out into vicious grins and joined the fray. It wasn’t long before the Admins had been Stopped, and the whole group of people there gathered in the courtyard had either abandoned professionalism completely, or attempted to flee the scene (a lot of the latter were prevented as well, and ended up getting roped into the conflict despite their efforts).

Jamie ducked under a particularly icy projectile and scrambled to her feet.

“JAMIE!” Bones roared. He was closing in fast.

Jamie “eep!”-ed. She tried to run faster.

“I tell you, if I’d’a known you were planning _somethin’ like this_ —!”

It looked like the green spaces were being converted into forts. The naturally-formed drifts provided good cover, and a number of alliances had already been made up there. Maybe it was a good place to hide from her friends.

Gaila dove across Jame’s path, trying to tackle her. Jamie slipped at the last moment and avoided it.

“I never should have helped you! HELPING YOU WAS A MISTAKE!”

“I APPRECIATE YOUR ASSISTANCE NONETHELESS, MR. BONES!”

Three snowballs whizzed past Jamie’s shoulder in rapid fire, coming from the direction of the green space. Uhura’s red coat could be seen ducking back down behind a hastily-crafted fort.

“Missed me!” Jamie laughed. She bent mid-stride and flung a scoop of slush in return.

“Ugh! Just stand still!”

Jamie glanced over her shoulder, spying Bones’ figure closing rapidly.

“Nah!”

They chased each other around the courtyard like children. So many people were acting like complete children—and that made Jamie’s heart swell. It was Christmas Eve, and their plan had been to stand in the cold and listen to a disciplinary speech? No no. That was no way to spend the holiday, and if this was the only way to get those stuffy Admins to realize such a simple thing, then so be it. She thought her Daddy would have been proud.

Jamie was making her own day. By the looks of it, she was making everyone else’s day too. It made her happy. Helping these people made her happy. The teachers (those poor stans, living under some of the strictest employment contracts Jamie had ever laid eyes on) were finally given a chance to let loose and have some fun for once. The students—still unnecessarily tense after the rockiest finals of their Academy careers—could get a real break from it all. Besides, what better way for Jamie to take advantage of this magnificent weather than to use all of a month staging a single mass snowball fight between the entire freshman class of Starfleet Academy and their staff? She honestly could think of none.

Everything was perfect. Right now, everything was perfect.

“Hey! Cupcake!”

Jamie yelped and shuffled wildly on the slick pavement. Not perfect! Not perfect! Those four goons were back! And they had hands full of weaponry.

One hurled with terrifying speed at Jamie’s head, and she barely had time to bend back before the offensively-dense ball skipped her forehead and continued on. From her upside-down vantage, she saw it strike above ground. Bones took it to the forehead. With an indignant shout, he went down hard.

There was no time to worry if he’d be okay. Jamie’s safety was in jeopardy.

Skidding and sliding like a dog on oil, she booked it closer to the stage. Would she ever get to stop running? Snowball fights were about precision, and strategy! Not speed or endurance! Oh, blast it.

A good number of cadets had it staked out towards the front of the courtyard, using various pieces of equipment as cover. A handful of Amin uniforms flashed through the surrounding vantage, but Jamie couldn’t tell if they were trying to stop the hundreds of young adults from attacking each other, or were themselves contributing to the madness. Suffice to say, at least they weren’t arranging any arrests. It was crowded. More so in this open area than the open area at the back of the open area that Jamie had come from. Most people from behind were spreading out and having at it. Here, it was harder to see where she was going.

Case and point when Jamie took a sharp turn and ate sweater. 

She “oof!”-ed loudly and sprawled head over heel into her obstacle, rendering the both of them hopelessly imbalanced—and in the snow within seconds.

“Sorry! Sorry!” She shouted. Her scarf was rebelling from her vest and getting all over her mouth. Too distracting. No time for this!

“Cadet, please get off of me—”

“Working on it!”

Cold weather came with winter. Layered clothing came with cold weather. Layered clothing and crash landings and urgency all combined made for a pretty sure mess of tangled limbs and embarrassing moments, especially when Jamie was trapped against none other than Professor Sexy himself. Not really ideal. Especially when she was still being targeted.

“Crap!” She yelled. Her hands fumbled to push off his chest, but she was uncoordinated, and a lot less graceful than she could have been.

Haha, who needs dignity, right? What a useless concept.

Screw dignity. 

“There she is!”

She’d been located. Good thing no one else seemed to be paying them much attention. 

“Is that professor with her?”

“Doesn’t matter, just get him!”

Oh shoot, now the Prof was a target too! Best to stick together then. Jamie finally clambered off the poor, undeserving man without a single ounce of virtue, stumbling in her haste. She dodged a heavy missile.

“Super sorry, Sir!” She yelled and dodged again. “Come on, we gotta move!” 

He’d barely gotten off his butt when Jamie reached over unceremoniously and snatched his hand.

“Cadet—!”

“Come on!” She dragged him into the fray.

Snow exploded left and right, bodies piled up. Cupcake and his mates were still tailing doggedly. 

The only thing that kept Jamie’s body functioning at the same consistent speed was the sheer thrill of the fight. In any case, she doubted she could have sprinted this long in Phys. Ed—and she was moving in such an erratic pattern with such agility and quickness that the professor didn’t even have time to let go of her hand. 

Back and forth they dodged, ziggity zaggity. But Cupcake and his team were in the engineering program of the Academy, which meant they were doing military-esc combat training, and were therefore very capable of keeping a solid follow no matter how wildly Jamie’s course veered. They couldn’t be outrun. She needed to find a more sustainable mode of defense.

“Come on, Sir, we need some cover!”

“I must insist that you release me, Cadet!”

“Don’t be crazy, I’m not leaving you to get pommeled!” She glanced over her shoulder at Cupcake’s hounding foursome. Not quite gaining, but they would start soon, once Jamie’s adrenaline began to wear off. She could probably ditch the hot professor and use him as a distraction to get away. He seemed to be equally as much of a target, after all. But she wasn’t that kind of person, and she wanted to do the noble thing. So she tightened her grip. “Stay with me!”

Eventually, they managed to circle their way back to the lawn, mostly avoiding the flurry of ammunition. Jamie’s eyes quickly scanned the drifts, verifying that Uhura had moved on. Upon confirmation, she chose the soonest opportunity and dove behind a bank with a handful of students her age. A volley of balls splattered just behind her back. The hotty tumbled in gracelessly beside her.

“We should be good here for a second, but we gotta return fire!”

The professor yanked his hand out of hers. “Cadet, your behavior was highly inappropriate—!”

“Not now, Sir! I need some snow! We have to shoot back!” She clawed her hand through the buildup on the ground and hastily pressed it together. A flaw of forts: the stuff on the ground beneath you packed down very quickly, rendering it less compliant to being molded. Leaning too far out to get fresh powder could potentially pull you away from the cover of the structure. The trick was to drive your attackers off before you ran out of material.

“Eat Christmas, ya punks!” Jamie hollered and popped above the fort. She hurled her solid snowball as hard as she could, feeling a very intense thrill of satisfaction when it snapped Cupcake’s head back sharply. Dirty move, going for the face, but he’d been the one to not-care first.

“Nice shot!”

Jamie ducked back down.

There was a black-haired guy crouching across the professor from her. He was moulding balls out of a bucket (where had that come from?) and pressed firmly against the snow cover. He might have been older than Jamie, but he had a baby face so she couldn’t be sure. Wasn’t he in her piloting class?

“Thanks! Here, toss me one!” She clapped her hands together.

The poor professor ducked.

When the other cadet obliged Jamie with two of his works, she turned around quick and yeeted Cupcake again.

“Hey, you’re Hikaru, right?”

Cupcake’s friends had halted their advance, but they were still attacking, and Jamie had to dive into the professor’s lap to avoid getting hit. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought him. This was getting to be embarrassing.

Fortunately, the other cadet made no comment. “Yeah, it’s Sulu. You’re Jamie Kirk!”

Jamie flashed him a crooked grin. “You’re in my piloting course.”

“We partnered for the Antiope simulation.”

“That’s right!”

Professor Hotness took the opportunity to detangle himself from Jamie’s body, grabbing Sulu’s container and splitting before things got even more awkward. He apparently didn’t like making _or_ throwing snowballs. Gathering the material for an ally was a job that not only put him in Jamie’s vicinity for minimal periods of time, but also provided respite from the course of actively attacking.

“This is an exceedingly illogical enterprise which we are undertaking.” He stated frankly, dumping the most recent load next to Sulu with eyes slightly narrowed. “We should not be contributing to the chaos.”

Oop, too late. Jamie was already having fun. 

“We don’t have a choice, Sir.” Jamie responded gravely. “The only way to get out of here is to fight our way through!”

Sulu laughed abruptly, stuffing a hand over his mouth to stop thereafter. “I wish this had happened _my_ freshman year. We never did anything this fun.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, Mr. Sulu.”

“I intend to. I’m graduating next semester.”

“We’ll certainly miss your snowball-making skills!”

With the help of Sulu and the other students behind the fort, they eventually succeeded in driving the four thugs away—though not before Jamie took another hit to the forehead (she was going to have a bruise in that spot by tomorrow), and fell on her professor twice again. He was just too conveniently-positioned! It wasn’t her intention!

“Uh, good going, team!” Jamie cheered, crawling off the extremely disgruntled Vulcan for the second time. How did that even happen? He barely stuck around after delivering the snow.

“Great job!” Sulu raised his hand obligingly as Jamie slithered to the side. She smacked it triumphantly.

“Hey, congratulations, Sir, you evaded assault!” His hand was half up too, likely from trying to push her away, and she gave it a hearty smack. His brows furrowed (quite a shocking display of emotion), and he opened his mouth to protest.

“There she is!” A shrill voice interrupted him. “Kirk!”

“Crap, it’s my floormates!”

“Professor Spock, are you alright?”

Now that Jamie thought about it, the two of them were in very much unpresentable shape. Her springy curls (she should have tied them up) were tangled with her scarf. The professor’s dark hair had chunks of ice in it, and his complexion was a lively green. Did Vulcans have green blood or was he about to throw up on her? 

She also had snow soaking her clothes from the inside out, her nose was red and runny, and her legs were still haphazardly sprawled around his waist. Shoot. Poor guy, his brain must be breaking under all this physical contact. Jamie hastily scooted backwards.

“Uhh, hey guys! Who is it you’re looking for?”

Gaila gave an enraged screech and pounced. With the sudden lurch, she threw her arm out to push Jamie’s head to the ground. Ouch, cold snow.

“This is a complete catastrophe!” She cried. “Do you have any idea what this riot has _done_ to my hair?”

Jamie tried to respond with “your hair still looks fine!” (because it did) but with her face smashed against the packed snow, she doubted the protest sounded anywhere near intelligible—and that was probably for the best, since Gaila might have suffocated her totally if she’d heard. Uhura raced over to her teacher.

“Did she attack you, Sir? I’m so sorry! She’s completely crazy!”

“Hey!” Jamie managed to smack Gaila’s hand off and came up sputtering. “Falling on him was an accident!”

“Well then you’re going to get your butt kicked by accident! Make these morons stop!”

“By `morons`, are you referring to the literal entirety of the freshman class plus their participating instructors? Because just because I started this whole thing—”

“You started the snowball fight?” Sulu interrupted in awe, at the same time Professor Spock sat up and asked, “ _You_ are responsible for the orchestration of this madness?”

Jamie leaned back and sniffed. “No no please, no need to thank me.”

“ _Thank_ you—” Spock’s tone turned the slightest bit indignant.

”You’re welcome!”

Uhura slammed a handful of snow into Jamie’s face.

“Pfft! Oh come on! Aren’t you having fun?”

Spock and Gaila were the only two who gave adamant “no!”s. Everyone else in the immediate vicinity agreed with varying levels of enthusiasm. Sulu was grinning.

“Hey, where’s Bones?”

“Pretty sure he dipped.”

“McCoy? Quitting? I don’t believe that.”

A sinister voice from just over the fort answered, “You assume correctly!” And Bones materialized right above Jamie with a massive bucket (no seriously, where had they gotten those from?) of snow in hand.

Jamie barely had time to yell in terror before he tipped it upside-down and covered her up to her throat.

Her voice rose about three octaves. “MCCOY, YOU TRAITOR!” 

He disappeared just as fast.

Screw the fort, she was going to serve him. Giving an outraged cry, she scrambled from the pile of betrayal and leapt over the snowdrift in a single invigorated bound. Bones was fleeing with his bucket. 

“Hang on, Jamie get back here!” Uhura shouted after her. “We’re not done getting revenge!”

“Help yourself!” She responded, not slowing down.

They must have run all over the courtyard. What a good workout. Jamie had heard that exercising gave you endorphins—or like, feel-good brain chemicals. So double the happy, it seemed. What a great way to spend Christmas Eve. 

Once or twice she swore she saw Pike targeting her (he must have hit right on every single time), and all the uptight Admins had cleared the scene. _Now_ it was perfect. Even if Mama wasn’t there. Or Sam. Or Daddy. Everything was as perfect as it could be.

The only part of her body more sore than her legs was her mouth, her cheeks, either from the cold, or from smiling so wide for so long. She was happy. Her plan worked. Today was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Eat Christmas, ya punks!”


	7. Rain the Color of Flower Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Capdad Pike and his wife unofficially adopt Jamie because the girl just needs to be loved already. #It’s all fluff I swear #tooth-rotting sweetness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one’s a tad long :V

Pike’s class was the highlight of Jamie’s week for two reasons. One, it was more often than once a week. Two, he let her sleep in the lecture hall. And also it was stupidly easy (probably her easiest one by far)—which was really three reasons, but then again it was Pike, so no surprise there.

Jamie really liked the guy. He was a solid dude: smart, kind, proud, and down-to-earth (as much any Starfleet Captain had the right to be). Disappointing him felt like breaking a close friend’s trust, so even if Jamie didn’t follow course guidelines as closely as she technically should have, she made up for it in every way she knew how. Her marks in his class were nothing shy of perfect. Against Bones’ advice, she drank extra espresso in order to stay awake. She volunteered her personal free hours to help him grade papers, run errands, and perform simple tasks.

She wanted to make him smile.

And maybe more than that, she wanted to make him proud.

He was the one who had recruited her, after all, so it was only natural that she strove to live up to his expectations. But a tiny, subconscious part of her mind knew that she wasn’t doing these things, feeling this way, simply because she wanted to  _ meet the standard _ . Standards had never been her vibe, anyhow. So something else was clearly going on.

Jamie didn’t quite realize what until the end of her second semester.

It was the first day after a breezy week of finals (Jamie had breezed through all those she hadn’t been exempt from, though through no small amount of sleepless nights and empty coffee cups), and classes were winding down for the school year. Summer break was just around the corner.

Uhura and Gaila were going to visit family, but Jamie and Bones would be staying on campus for summer classes, which would start in a couple of weeks. They had nowhere else to go, anyway.

“Hey, Kirk,”

The final lecture of Pike’s diplomacy class had ended, and Jamie, as always, was the last person to leave. She was more reluctant now than ever before. The course had been really enjoyable, and she was sad that she wouldn’t take another class taught by the captain for the rest of her Academy career. He said she had placed too highly for that.

With a depressed air, she gathered her satchel and shuffled down the stairs. Pike was waiting expectantly at the front of the room. He raised an eyebrow, smiling faintly.

“Why so blue?”

“All due respect, Sir, my uniform is red.” (Female uniforms had stylish skirts instead of trousers, and Jamie was honestly relieved—because she had tried a boy’s uniform on before and it was  _ not _ comfortable).

Pike let out a dry laugh. “It’s an old saying, James. Means you look sad.”

“Oh.” She felt like she knew that. Her mind was just too distracted to make the connection. “I’m gonna miss you, Sir.” She blurted before she could stop herself, and quickly ducked her head a fraction because her cheeks were getting warm. “I really liked this class. Wish I could take it again.”

“Really? Diplomacy? Never pegged that as your thing.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, well, all my other classes were boring.”

He laughed again. Jamie liked seeing him laugh. She liked seeing him at ease. It took a good few years off his tired face. 

“Continue at the rate you’re going, you’ll be so busy you won’t have time to be bored.”

Jamie sighed and shouldered her bag. “Yeah, looking forward to it.”

His eyes softened and an uncharacteristic smile gave him a gentle look. “Hey, before you go, I have something to give you.” 

Jamie perked up just a little.

“Kelly wouldn’t forgive me if I forgot.” He walked around to the other side of his desk and produced a small, plastic container. Jamie had already seen it a few times before, and she felt her spirits rise immediately.

“Graduation presents?” She asked with a tiny grin, as Pike handed her the box.

“She’s been baking like crazy these past couple of weeks. Wanted to make sure you got a little something.”

“That’s super sweet!”

“You haven’t even tasted them yet.”

A real laugh banished the rest of Jamie’s downtrodden mood. She popped open the lid of the container, beholding two layers of her favorite brownie squares—if they could be considered that at all. The Mrs. really liked to jazz things up when it came to baking. Even if Jamie generally prefered plain goods, she could never resist the divine gift of these trademark pastries.

“Oh, and I meant to tell you,” Pike straightened. “She wants you over for dinner tomorrow night.”

What?

Jamie’s face froze half-smile. She’d never heard those words before. Invited to dinner? Jamie Kirk?

“I—seriously?”

He nodded like it was the most natural thing in the world—which it probably was, just not to her. “The two of you have never properly met. She wanted to arrange an official date before the end of your freshman year.”

Jamie sputtered. What… what could she say to that? No one had ever taken the time to  _ set up a date _ for her—for her! Least of all someone she’d barely met! She’d been to people’s houses and all, but usually just late at night, and um, for far less respectable reasons. What did you even do in situations like that? What did you wear? How did you act?

“A-are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to—”

“Ah, don’t worry about it!” He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s completely relaxed, if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, the woman’s been quite the homebody since she retired last year. She loves these sorts of things.”

There were plenty of emotions fighting for control of Jamie’s brain. In all honesty, she wasn’t quite sure  _ what _ to feel. This was such an unexpected, unanticipated, unprepared-for offer. Should she be grateful? Embarrassed? Nervous? Afraid? Excited?

Once the emotion was identified, excitement exploded from her chest out, and she was bouncing on her toes before she even realized. 

Mrs. Pike had invited her to dinner.

Mrs. Pike had invited her to dinner. 

Baker, chef, poet, retired first officer extraordinaire Mrs. Pike had invited her, Jamie Kirk, to dinner. What was there not to be excited about?

Not a thing in the world. 

She didn’t really know  _ why _ the legendary woman had taken a liking to such a troubled cadet, but ever since receiving those meaningful, sweet notes (courtesy of her husband) scrawled with pastry recipes and well wishes on a frequent basis, Jamie had sort of expected the association to die away. However if anything, she simply found herself more and more what seemed to be an object of affection. Which was odd. And frankly, almost ridiculous. It was likely against the laws of nature—someone so determinedly caring about her like that—but it was happening, and it was a dream come true, and who was Jamie to decline?

“Yes. Yes!” Her face split wide open. She was excited. “I—what—yes! I-I would love to!”

Her heart was like a buoy. Her eyes, she could feel them shining.

Pike’s lips twitched in amusement. Normally, Jamie would have thought the look to be proud, or something like it, but she was too preoccupied in the moment to be amused by it herself. 

“What time should I be there?”

“Eighteen-hundred.”

“Okay! Thank you so much!”

He chuckled easily. “Jamie, we’re more than happy to have you.”

“Really?” Another first. No one had ever expressed that before. Not to her. Not to her face. Probably ever. She was the pain in the neck. The obligation. Often even a charity case. She’d never been a  _ pleasure _ —not in any way that mattered. Not to any _ one _ that mattered.

“Of course.”

Jamie had never… she’d never felt like this in all her life. This high. This vibrant? No, what was the word? Rapt? Uh, carefree? Jocular? No. It started with an `h`, and she wasn’t tripping so it wasn’t `high`. 

This… this… happy.

Jamie was happy—as she hadn’t been in quite some time. And it was just a little thing. It was just a meal. It was just dinner.

But then it also  _ wasn’t _ just a meal. It was a lot more than that. It was… and this word  _ really _ escaped Jamie. She could grasp the concept pretty vividly, but she couldn’t give it a name. How frustrating. This was what it felt like to be cared for. This was setting bones after a bike accident. This was borrowing coats to go on dates. This was throwing snowballs and making forts and hiding in corn stalks from drunk, scary men. This was crashing a ship to save eight-hundred lives. This… this was…

It took Jamie an entire day to figure out. Though of course, she owed a great deal of credit to Mrs. Kelly Pike and her husband for the help.

At eighteen-hundred hours on the dot, Jamie rang their doorbell with her elbow and stepped back to admire the quaint building. Its design had a sunny feel, with an open exterior and warm colors, radiating homey cheerfulness. Everything that their house was supposed to look like. 

Jamie was glad that the flowers she’d brought were fitting to the aesthetic, though she didn’t think Mrs. Pike would mind either way. Were you supposed to bring flowers to dinner? Jamie didn’t know. She’d just heard somewhere that it was polite. And she wanted to be polite. 

In any case, it was May, and May in California meant flowers. So flowers.

Captain Pike answered the door.

“Hey! There ya are.” His casual gray sweater was rolled up at the sleeves. Jamie had never seen him in jeans before. Or in slides. “Come on in, buddy.” He stepped to the side to let her in.

Her lips stretched out. “Thanks again for inviting me, Sir.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Again with the dismissiveness, though this time his smile was open and obvious. “You can keep your shoes on if you want. We don’t mind.”

“Oh, I just got mud on these walking over.”

“Kidding?”

“No, I’ll leave them out here.”

“Sounds like a plan. Honey!”

As Jamie toed her muddy sneakers off, Pike held an arm out to her and shouted into the house. “Jamie’s here!”

“Okay!” Some musical voice answered.

The inside of the building was every bit as comely as the exterior. Smooth walls proudly hung photographs and colorful paintings. The furniture was a mix of delicate white, and warm, sturdy wood. There was no particular theme. Just things that worked. An elegant coat hanger perched right behind the door. Down the hall, a flight of blocky steps marched confidently up to the second level.

Every moment that Jamie stayed there, she fell more in love with the place and its caretakers. This was a home. A house for that word she was trying to remember. Jamie would have liked to live here, if she had been a child. She would have felt safe.

Safe, surrounded by strong walls, delicious smells, and filtered window beams from the light of the summer sun. 

“Jamie!”

A woman of Pike’s age (if Jamie had to guess, she would say no more than a year in difference) rounded the corner. The creases in the skin of her face looked more like crowns than signs of seniority—especially when she smiled. Her curly hair was pulled away from her face with a loose tail, allowing a few gray strands at her temples to slip loose and frame her eyes. 

What warm eyes. The color of freshly brewed coffee. They were kind, and gentle, and very very sharp. How incredible that someone could have such eyes. Not quite unlike Spock’s, carrying an intriguing depth that was simply waiting to be tapped.

A cute apron was cinched around the woman’s neck. She brushed her hands on it and beamed. 

It occurred to Jamie in that moment that Mrs. Pike was very beautiful.

“I’m so glad you could make it! Are those flowers you’ve got there?”

Smiling. That was appropriate. How could one be subjected to the lovely aura of that woman’s smile and not return it in kind? It wasn’t possible.

“Yeah, for you, Mrs. Pike. Just a little something as thanks for inviting me.”

Jamie’s heart swelled in perfect sync with the brightening of the recipient’s eyes. Her bouquet changed hands. Was this how it worked? Was she doing it right? __

_ Please don’t screw up. Please don’t screw up. _

“Well, you picked a lovely bunch. And please, call me Kelly.” She flashed a wink. “You are welcome here any time.”

Really? “Really?”

“Of course!”

Pike nodded with a tiny grin and closed the door. 

“Jamie Dear, why don’t you come help me finish this dish?”

Mrs. Pike was fixing steak for dinner. She was asking Jamie for assistance. She must have figured that Jamie didn’t know how to cook, and could therefore use a proper lesson. Jamie didn’t know how to cook. Not well, at least. She could make Ramen like any classic Uni student, but most of her sustenance came from the school’s cafeteria (another reason to stay behind over the summer).

Mrs. Pike showed her how to brown the meat and stir the sauce. What spices to add, how to check and make for sure that it was done—cooked all the way through. They chopped some onions and mushrooms and peppers and stirred up a fragrant pot of gravy. It was nice.  _ Really _ nice. Jamie had enjoyed herself even before they sat down to eat.

Captain Pike had so kindly set the table. There were three festive glasses of red wine.

So far, Jamie seemed to have avoided offending anyone. That was good. That was progress. The last thing she wanted in the moment was to make some egregious mistake and expose her poor table manners. She’d had to Google proper dinner etiquette after class this afternoon. Hopefully, the fresh knowledge would be enough to carry her through the evening.

“So Jamie,” Mrs. Pike shed her apron to reveal a darling gray turtleneck. Some brilliant twinkle was in her eyes. “Christopher tells me you’re going to be a captain.”

He’d told his wife about her?

“Yes ma’am, that’s correct.”

Pike got a teasing quirk about his lips as he sipped his glass of wine. “She’s got two years left at the Academy. Isn’t that right, James?”

Jamie refused to blush. Instead, she lifted her chin and nodded.

Kelly’s eyebrows went up. “Oh? I didn’t know you were a sophomore.”

“No no, I’m a freshman.”

“But she’s going to graduate in her third year.” Pike put in importantly. 

“Wow! Is that so?”

“She’s taking accelerated courses. Why don’t you tell her, buddy?”

It didn’t seem like an inappropriate thing to talk about, so Jamie told Kelly about her classes, her assessments, all the extra work she’d been doing. Jamie didn’t realize how exhausted it all had made her until she described her year in length. How many papers had she written? How many exams had she taken? How many times had she forgotten just to sleep? Maybe for her week off before summer classes, she could just crash in her bed, or sit in the common room and do nothing. 

“That’s very impressive.” Kelly told her in a genuinely impressed voice. 

Jamie had impressed Mrs. Pike. 

“It’s what I want to do. I mean, it’s what I’m willing to do.”

“Even after the whole year like that, you want to keep going?”

An understandable question. Experiencing such intense rigor, such a dense schedule, it was a wonder Jamie had found any time for her male company at night, or her parties with friends and peers. Blonde coffee had become her closest, most valued possession. Makeup too, because her bags were fierce (on occasion, even rivalling Bones’). After such an intense ten months, did she really want to spend two more years in the same fashion? Sure, she’d get next summer free, but until then, it was non-stop work. How amazing that Jamie wasn’t already burnt out. 

But where was she going to go if she didn’t stay here? Frank was the only one waiting for her back in Iowa. She hadn’t seen her mother in years. There was nothing. No one. Just Starfleet, now. So she had to succeed here. No, she had to  _ excel _ . She had to do better, be better, show everyone that she was worth it—worth employing, befriending, loving. She needed to prove herself. She could sleep after she’d done that. Or when she was dead. Whichever was most convenient.

“Well, I believe it’s what’s necessary.” Her mouth filter—or lack, thereof—made a sudden manifestation. “And uh… I don’t really have anything else to do.”

Though Jamie’s face was turning pink, Kelly didn’t laugh at the additional piece. Neither did she make some pitiful, sympathetic comment. She only smiled. And her smile was warm, and gentle. “I understand that, and I’m sure you could do it, if it’s what you really want. You need anything, you just ask.”

Jamie’s blush darkened. This woman was so sweet, so caring. Why?

And Pike’s eyes were soft, and he was smiling too. If Jamie didn’t know any better, she’d say he looked almost… fond. 

Maybe those sleepless nights were building up, and she was finally starting to hallucinate. Bones would be so disappointed. 

“I—um, thank you.”

And she meant it. She was really grateful. The words might not have conveyed the true gravity of this sudden burst of emotion, but they seemed to be enough in the moment. Was she doing okay? Was this how it worked? Were her hosts supposed to care about her this much?

“Now, you’re a freshman, you say?”

“Yes, I’m almost finished with the second semester.”

“Will you be taking the simulation, then?”

Pike straightened.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, the  _ Kobayashi Maru _ .” Kelly smirked just a tiny bit, like the idea of the test amused her. She twirled her fork and pursed her lips. “All command majors are required to take it before they graduate, as far as I know. Or is that not how they’ve been doing things since last year?” This last part was directed towards her husband.

Pike’s lips twitched and he nodded. “Yes, that’s right. It’s required now.”

He wondered how Jamie would do.

She had heard the name of it a handful of times, but none of her instructors had ever presented her with the prospect until now. “What is it?”

“The  _ Kobayashi Maru _ is a simulation exam for command majors. It presents you with a live scenario, and your job is to man the ship until the full test has run its course. One of our science officers has been programming it for the last two cycles, ever since his senior year at the Academy, actually.”

Jamie only knew of one professor smart enough to personally strategize a mandated exam, and only one professor who had become an instructor immediately after graduating. Hence, the words, “Professor Ho—Professor Spock?” were leaving her mouth before she could really think about it. Had she said that too quickly? At least she’d caught herself.

Pike tried to hide his amusement. “Yes, Professor Spock.”

Jamie cleared her throat and nodded, trying—and failing—to feign indifference. “Well he’s Vulcan.” And awfully attractive because of it.

“Oh yes, they do have quite the invigorated program there on Vulcan.”

“Mm. Will I have to take the test, Sir?”

Pike tilted his head. He elected to ignore her slight of tongue. “Yes, since you’re en route to captaincy. They’ll allow you to do it this summer, in July, before the first semester starts up. I’ve snagged a time block for you. Remind me to send the specs over before ya leave tonight.”

“Oh—wait, really? You did that? For me?”

“Sure, James.”

Her mouth flapped a couple of times. “—Wow! Golly, thank you!”

“Ah, it’s no problem. You know, it was my responsibility to help you out with the exam, since I’m your primary command instructor and all that.” But he winked, and he probably hadn’t needed to go so far as scheduling. What… what a good man.

The conversation shifted to Pike’s own experiences in the field. His own scenarios, his own adventures, back when he was active duty. It seemed there was much to tell, and in some cases, no detail was spared. It helped that Kelly was there to fill in. They were good together like that. Anything that one left out, the other would remember. Almost perfect compliment.

“You know, being a captain isn’t just about the protocol.” Pike was saying. He sounded a lot like a wizened old grandfather. The `back in my day` spiel, the advice. If Jamie had met either of her grandfathers—men whose names she bore—she imagined they’d be like older Pikes. People chalk-full of knowledge and experience. People she’d want to listen to.

“You’ll encounter a situation where you’re completely unprepared. In those cases, you’ll have to rely pretty heavily on your crew.” He exchanged a sweet look with Kelly. “You’ll need them to have your back. You’ll need to trust them. Being Captain just means you have the responsibility, not the power. You’re not even the only one on the bridge, right? You’ve got to lean on people sometimes.”

He wasn’t giving her specific advice, but Jamie was still listening completely rapt. Whether or not she could take and apply the things he told her was another matter. Trusting people was… eh. That was eh. Jamie would rather take all the credit, or all the blame. She was used to swinging solo.

“So… you think I need a pretty solid relationship with my crewmates?”

“Oh yeah, it’s vital, even, depending on how adventurous your assignments are. It’ll establish itself over time, the more you work with those people.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Especially with your commander.”

“My first officer?”

“Yeah. Your first officer is going to be your best professional friend. They stick with you through every single thing up there; they give you advice, they help you on missions, they watch your back. Sometimes even, they’re your best friend  _ off _ the ship as well. It’s not uncommon for cadets to be assigned vessels with their roommates from the Academy, since compatibility—especially on the bridge—is key.”

Jamie didn’t have a roommate. If she was a captain, who would her first officer be? Would it be someone she knew from school? Someone she was acquainted with? Would she get along with them? Enjoy their company? What if they were annoying? What if they were chaotic? Irrational? Overly emotive? Self-destructive? Her?

What if her first officer was just like her?

Well first, their ship would crash and burn.

And everyone on it would die.

So probably not a good idea, yeah. They would need someone who was basically the exact opposite. Reserved, refined, practical, precise. Serious. Maybe not someone she’d get along well with, but someone with whom she could work. Someone to keep her in check, someone to protect the crew. It being said, did friendship  _ really _ matter all that much?

She cleared her throat. Hopefully not.

“So um, would you say you had a good… friendship with your first officer?”

Pike snorted. “Well I must have, I married her!”

What? This was news. Across the table, Kelly beamed. She looked almost smug.

“Hang on,  _ you _ were his first officer?”

“Indeed I was.”

“Woah, I guess that was a pretty strong friendship then.”

“He couldn’t help himself.” Kelly teased. “It was inevitable.”

“Oh please.”

“Wait, so you only retired last year?”

She sat back and nodded. “Yes, it was time. I had a baking vlog to start, and my Starfleet schedule wasn’t good for that.”

Jamie laughed. “So who’s your replacement?”

“Ah, yes, the replacement. It’s the handsome Vulcan boy, that professor who wrote the  _ Maru _ code.”

This was also news.

“Spock.” Pike put in helpfully.

“Yes, that’s his name.”

“Wow.” Small world. What a small, happy world.

When they had finished eating, Jamie helped Kelly clean up. They moved the dirty dishes to the sink (where the captain set to work washing them, upon command), and stored away the leftovers in tidy little containers. The actions were so domestic, so homey and fluffy. It made Jamie feel soft inside. Like she’d been stuffed with tribbles.

“Oh, Jamie Dear,”

Jamie was helping Pike dry the dishes when Kelly called her over to the table. The bouquet of flowers had been neatly placed in a fluted vase, and Kelly was arranging them delicately with a small smile on her lips.

“Yeah? What is it?” Had she made a mistake? It didn’t seem that way, how Kelly was smiling. But what did she want? What was going on?

Kelly’s fingers traced the orange petals of a larger blossom. “Any particular reason you picked these flowers here?”

Jamie paused. She flicked the towel in her hands. Should there have been? “Ah, no, not really. I just thought they looked nice.”

Kelly’s smile widened. “You know, in some cultures, different species of flowers have different symbols and meanings. I thought you might have had that in mind.”

A light chuckle tickled Jamie’s throat. “Oh no, I know nothing about that. I don’t know anything about flowers, really. Do you?” Uh-oh, had she messed the flowers up? What if they meant… death, or rejection, or bad manners or something? 

Jamie bit her tongue and actively reprimanded herself. Kelly was smiling. That was good.

“I like these ones.”

See? She liked them. No reason to panic. Though Jamie wasn’t lying about her ignorance. Even the species of the plant in front of them was escaping her. Maybe she should have put a little more thought into this.

“This one here,” Kelly gestured to the long, white, shafts of tiny blossoms. “These are lilacs. They’re well-known for their soothing scent, but they also symbolize youthful innocence.”

Jamie felt her eyebrow quirk up. “Huh. I didn’t know that.” So far so good. Nothing vulgar, at least.

“And this,” She selected the vibrant cluster of pumpkin-colored flowers. “Is called hydrangea. They represent heartfelt emotions, especially towards the people you love, such as a spouse, sibling, or parent.”

Oh.  _ Oh _ . Hold up, hang on. Jamie felt a hardcore realization build up her chest, and she was literally seconds away from blurting it out.  _ This was it. This was it. _

Kelly shot her a meaningful look. “And also, the gardenia.” Her hand alighted on the largest of the flowers, which was bright and open like a bell. “Gardenias mean children, because of their purity and sweetness. A flower that means family.”

Click. Snap. Voila. That was it. That was the word. The togetherness, the safe sensation, the undeniable feeling of  _ home _ . The thing that Jamie experienced when her heart got warm, and she knew that someone cared.

That wasn’t a building, or the color on a wall. That wasn’t diplomacy lectures, or hyposprays, or movie nights in a floormate’s dorm. It was people. This was a captain, a doctor, a linguist and her friend.

This was family.

Jamie bit her lip and felt her eyes pool. She’d never quite had a family before. Frank was not to her. He had her blood, yeah, but real family would never have done the things he had done. Mom was never there. She barely stayed on planet. Sam stuck around just long enough to be missed, when he finally left. And Daddy was dead. So.

Foster homes were less than welcoming. Jamie was twenty-two when she got her first proper hug (thank you, Bones). Was this what family felt like? Love for no reason? Good food and safety and togetherness? Jamie couldn’t be sure. But if she had to guess, maybe. Yeah.

Captain Pike dried his hands on a dish towel and made his way to the table. He looked over Jamie’s shoulder. A small, adoring smile began to pull the corners of his mouth out, and his eyes twinkled as he shared a look with his beautiful wife, who mirrored him.

Jamie swiped at her right eye. She was fine. It was just rain.

Pike squeezed her shoulder, and his gaze pulled back to her. 

Family. Yeah. This was it.

“Good choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jamie’s shoes were dirty because she was saving a tiny cat that got stuck in a mud pit. In case you wanted to know.


	8. A Thousand Dying Suns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie takes the Kobayashi Maru test for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the angst, but I’ll see about getting a comfort chapter up next!

Jamie dropped the paper cup into a nearby bin and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her hand was shaking. She was shaking. Her whole body was doing this weird vibrating motion thing. Either it was the caffeine, or the nerves.

Maybe both.

Jamie paused just outside the door. She sniffed. It was worth taking a few seconds to mentally brace. Not straightening her uniform, or brushing her curls aside; it didn’t matter what she looked like, and the gestures would be fruitless anyway. All that mattered now was her preparedness (she was _so_ ready), and she was going to own this test because she was a BAMMF (Bestest, Awesomest, Most Marvelous Fellow).

So without further ado, she reached both arms out, and swept the door open.

Jamie was the last one in the room. She was not late (because how could she be late to such an important event?), but she was the last one there. Everyone else was accounted for. Every seat was filled. Save one. _The_ one.

That chair was hers. A single prick of satisfaction spiked through her belly as she lowered herself into it. Undeniably, there was a sense of _belonging_.

Jamie beamed shakily (she was still kinda shaky. She hadn’t slept like, at all the night before, having slaved over her review sheets until the sun rose, and she was functioning solely on blonde coffee at the moment. There had been something of a concern that if she consumed anything solid, her body would have rejected her entire digestive system onto the cafeteria floor, so maybe she was also shaky from hunger. Why did she have so many problems?)

Directly to her front left, Bones was manning the control console, operating as her Commander. That was nice. She knew it would never be a thing in reality—Commander McCoy—since he was a medical officer and all, but he was definitely her friend, and given Pike’s earlier advice, that meant they would be a great command team. Alas. 

Bones had mentioned how he was required to take the test too, because he was an executive medical operative, and they were supposed to follow succession of command… or whatever his reason had been. The point was that he’d managed to snag the same time block as Jamie, and he was here, and that was a good thing.

Uhura was also present. She was the chief communications lieutenant or something, and Jamie had definitely seen Gaila’s fancy red hair somewhere among the many. Lovely they were all doing this on the same day.

“Captain on the bridge!” Bones called out as soon as Jamie took her seat. He turned halfway, caught her eye, and gave her a gruff smile. He meant it to be reassuring, and it helped a little bit.

Jamie gripped her armrests to stop her tremors the rest of the way. With those words, the lights flared to life, and the test began.

Deep breath, Kirk. _You can do this_.

“Mr. McCoy, status report.” Jamie cleared her throat. Captains did _not_ sound like balloons with tiny holes.

“No apparent nuance, Captain. We maintain our position, awaitin’ orders.”

“Very we—”

“Wait, Captain!”

Jamie didn’t mean to jump. Honest. She was supposed to have _anticipated_ this. Blame the coffee. 

Uhura swiveled around in her chair, and Jamie turned to face her with all composure to hide the effects of her caffeine-saturated body. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“I’m getting a transmission from Starfleet Command. They’ve received a distress signal from the freighter ship _Kobayashi Maru_ , and their intel says that the ship is rapidly losing power as well as the ability to maintain life support. We have been ordered to rescue them.”

Okay, okay. Deep breath, Kirk.

Jamie knew how to do this. She knew what she was supposed to say.

“Plot course to the _Kobayashi Maru._ ”

A few of the cadets hastily jumped to fulfil her command. “Aye, Captain!”

“Captain,” Gaila piped up from a few rows away. “We’ve located the freighter. It appears to be stranded in a gravitic mine.” She forwarded the coordinates to Jamie’s panel.

“Interesting…” She murmured. “Because that’s right on the border of—”

“The Klingon neutral zone.”

“Indeed. If we go there, we could be found in violation of the Federation’s neutral space agreement with the Klingon Empire. They will be provoked into attacking our ship. We run the risk of starting a war.” Shoot, wait, she needed to make it sound less like she was regurgitating information. She really did care. She was taking this seriously. It was time to act like it.

Bones turned to look at her. “Captain, do we proceed with the mission?”

Jamie cleared her throat. 

The crew. The crew of that ship. They were dying. They were alone in space, with no mobility, no direction, no life support. No one was going to help them. Imagine their terror. Imagine their screams. There was a moral obligation, as a captain of a ship that could _do_ something, to do something. 

“...yes, proceed. We can’t very well leave the stranded crew to die, anyway.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Course inlaid.”

She swallowed. “Take us out.”

Jamie’s hands tightened on the armrests. She knew there was a window over her shoulder, reflective on her side. People were watching her. She was being assessed.

“Tell Engineering to prepare for engagement of any hostile vessels.”

“Captain.”

It took a few minutes to drop out of warp. The instant they did, the screen exploded with color, as a brilliant backdrop of nebula came into view. The sudden change in the cosmos surprised Jamie. It was gorgeous. Like a thousand sunsets tossed against the void, and tangled in a net of stars. Who knew the color of fire could be so lovely when holding still?

No. It was just a simulation. It was just a picture on a screen. It was only a piece of the program.

Jamie gave her head a sharp shake. It was part of the test, which meant it was there to distract her. They dropped out of warp and she turned to Bones.

“Mr. McCoy, locate the freighter.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“We need to make this a snappy operation. I’m sure the Klingons are aware of our presence by now.”

“Estimated three minutes before Klingon interference.”

“Noted.”

“Freighter ship _Kobayashi Maru_ located, Captain. Two kilometers starboard.”

Jamie’s fingers clenched even tighter. She said all the right things. She knew exactly what to do.

“Thrusters seventy percent. Alert Medical Bay to prepare to receive all crewmembers of the distressed ship. Order Engineering to begin extraction procedures.”

They were so close. It should be easy. It should be _so_ easy.

“Aye Capt—”

“Captain! Proximity alert!”

Crap.

“Incoming warbirds! Four hostile vessels detected!”

Jamie’s fingers were turning white. She’d long since stopped shaking. Deep breath, Kirk.

“Identify, Ensign.”

“Captain, they’re Klingon vessels.”

“Shields up!”

Four blazing warbirds dropped out of warp beside the Federation ship. They began firing without further ado.

Red, orange, bursting blasts of light. A beautiful explosion of nebula, the cosmos erupting against their hull. No, no, this wasn’t right. They were too soon. They were _too early_ . This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was _wrong_.

Deep breath, Kirk.

“Evasive maneuvers, Ensign! Get us to the freighter!”

“Captain!”

There was no way they could rescue the crew of the freighter in fire this heavy. Even as they zipped through space, dodging blasts left and right, every move they made would be completely useless unless the warbirds were stopped.

“Neutralize enemy ships!”

“Their shields are too strong, Ma’am! We can’t penetrate with photon missiles!”

Deep breath, Kirk.

She _couldn’t_ fail. She _couldn’t_. She needed to save those people. She needed to beat this freaking simulation. She needed to prove herself. And she could. She knew her own abilities. It should be possible. It should be probable. She’d done everything right. So why wasn’t it working?

“Captain,” Bones turned halfway with a grim look on his face. “Our shields are at sixty percent. We stay here much longer and we’ll be broken pieces of a ship like rock candy dropped on the floor.”

Jamie was having a hard time feeling her fingers. But she couldn’t bail, not even mentally. Her own crew needed a leader. She had to be present, in every way possible. Even if it was hard. Even if she was scared. 

Was she scared? She was very afraid to fail. She didn’t want to lose.

Deep breath, Kirk.

“The likelihood of us pulling this rescue off is low. There’s… there’s no point endangerin’ the lives of everyone onboard any more’n we already have. Captain, I advise we abort the mission.”

Jamie felt something twist violently in her chest.

Abort? Abort the mission? But, but the _Kobayashi Maru_ . Disregarding their orders, there were people dying. Jamie—they were so _close_. 

_They couldn’t leave those people there to die_.

A part of Jamie’s brain tried to remind her that this was a simulation, and it was okay to fail, but the part of her with the body’s control was refusing to back down. 

“Two more hostiles incoming!”

Jamie’s hands started shaking again. It didn’t matter how hard they gripped the chair.

“Shields at forty percent!”

Deep breath, Kirk.

Even doing everything right, everything was still going wrong. Jamie tried to salvage it all, she encouraged the crew, made the best calls… but it didn’t work. No matter what she tried. Their shields continued to drop, and the lights of the _Maru_ continued to flash, until they stopped, and they were still so far away.

The Klingons fired and fired. They swarmed about outside like wasps from a broken nest. There was no way to survive. Jamie was powerless.

Deep breath, Kirk.

The Klingons were going to win, and the _Kobayashi Maru_ was going to go dark, and Jamie’s ship would crack to pieces like rock candy on the floor. Her crew would float out into the nebula and vanish among the stars.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She couldn’t lose. She couldn’t let them die. _She couldn’t let them die_.

Jamie was the last one to exit the simulation chamber, just like she’d been the last to be there. Most of the cadets stood from their stations with breathy laughs, smiles, high-fiving each other, grateful that the test was over, because _wasn’t that ridiculously stressful_?

But the screen went black, and the sounds cut out, and the real lights of the room came back on, and Jamie stood there and didn’t move. She stared at the dark projector, where the cosmos should have been, and she didn’t move.

Uhura and Gaila waved on their way out. Bones lingered. He looked worried.

“Hey Darlin’, you alright?” His voice had gone low, for the benefit of anyone behind the window.

No, Jamie was not alright. She was going to vomit her blonde coffee all over the floor.

 _She had failed_.

People were dead, and it was her fault.

White noise rang in her ears. She barely registered her fingers on the arms of the chair; they had gone numb without any blood. She was not alright, no.

But instead of admitting to any of it, she turned to look at him with a slow tilt of her head (or at least, she tried. He was a little out of focus).

“Yeah Bones, I’m fine.”

His frown deepened. He knew she was lying—of course he did. Could she be any more obvious?

But she wasn’t budging, and he couldn’t stick around to talk about it with the window watching so intently, so he reluctantly turned and started on his way out. Though, not before murmuring a definitive, “We’ll talk later.”

Jamie stared at the black screen.

(Had Daddy looked like that?)

“Cadet Kirk,” A voice from the ceiling said. “Please exit the simulation.”

She did. She wanted nothing more than to leave that empty room with its too-bright lights and its wailing monitors and the false sky that froze mere moments before twilight. But she stayed where she stood for a few seconds more, because then Bones would have shut the door behind him, and Jamie would really be the last one.

A captain goes down with the ship, after all.


	9. Alone, a Star Burns Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the comforrttttt :D Capdad Pike, to the rescue! The next few chapters will be mostly fluff, I promise. (Literal fluff :)))

Jamie really needed to sit down. She saw fire when she closed her eyes. The last handful of minutes had also been a blur, and she was currently consumed with the task of walking down the hall without collapsing on the ground.

Bones had been waiting outside the door. He’d been waiting for her to finally leave the room. He’d seen her, and his voice had been unusually gentle. And he tried to reach out, but Jamie couldn’t understand his words, so she’d said something mean and ran away.

She wanted to be alone. But she also didn’t want to be alone. She wanted someone to hold her. She wanted someone to tell her that it was okay, that no one had really died, that in spite of nebulas and glittering stars and ships that lit up the sky, she had done well, and she would be a good captain. Bones probably would have said it, even before she could ask, but she’d shut him out and she was alone now. And she was tired. Her body had rejected the caffeine and she hadn’t slept in a while.

Her hand slid along the wall. Her feet were moving faster than she should be carried. This was hazardous. She was going to run into someone, especially because her head hurt like a lot, and she was having trouble seeing.

When the wall ran out, Jamie fell. Lost her balance and fell as her hand met air. But she didn’t fall far, because she’d rounded a corner, and someone was there and she might have been walking on the wrong side of the hallway.

She didn’t knock the person over, as she so often was wont to do. They caught her instead. And she knew who it was. She could smell their cologne, feel their hands grab her shoulders, hear their voice literal seconds away from a teasing reprimand, and she knew who it was, and she was glad that she wasn’t alone.

But she heard the tease die on their lips, and she heard the tidal wave of concern crash in its place, as thinly veiled as it was, even in her incoherent state.

“Hey there buddy,” Pike’s grip on her shoulders tightened.

She squinted up at him, and a very heavy feeling of deja vu washed over her. Except now she wasn’t on the floor, and she had a scar instead of glass in her lip, and her clothes had been dyed red instead of stained, and he was holding her up.

“You alright?”

And even though a part of Jamie’s brain was crying and shaking  _ no, no she wasn’t alright, please help me _ , the part that had control of her mouth urged her to swallow painfully and say,

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Maybe by force of habit. She was so used to the lie that it was… muscle memory. At this point. Those words were so familiar that they were on her tongue and falling before a second thought even crossed her mind.

But Captain Pike was a good person, and so he didn’t believe her. His expression went stern.

“No, no Cadet,  _ you don’t lie to me _ . Let’s have the truth.”

The truth? Jamie was dizzy. She was hot and cold at the same time. Her eyes had been darting all over the place, trying to locate the nearest trash can, because she… she… her body wasn’t accepting the coffee. Her mouth was dry. She felt like she was honest-to-all disassociating, and she was so,  _ so _ tired.

Her tongue stuck to her lips as she tried to pass them over. “I don’t feel good, Sir.”

And her voice sounded weird.

Pike moved his left hand to the inside of her arm, using the pad of his thumb to apply pressure against her bicep (a trick he’d learned from Bones). His face was swimming in her vision, but only because Jamie let it. She was being pathetic.

“You just took the test.” He said. And of course he knew that. He’d planned it out for her, after all. He’d asked. He’d been excited for her sake.

Jamie tried to nod, but the motion only made her brain slosh, and she wanted to fall down for no reason.

Pike’s lips formed a hard line, and his expression became hard to read. “Then I’m guessing this isn’t a physical malady.”

“Well,” Jamie closed her eyes for a few seconds. “It’s been a while since I last slept, and I haven’t eaten in… I can’t remember actually. So this might have to do with that. Or maybe I’m dehydrated. I’ve been living off coffee for the past—”

“ _ Jamie _ .”

She swallowed heavily, thickly, painfully again. Bile might have flooded her mouth otherwise. Scrunching her eyes was a grounding action, and she squeezed them as tight as she could.

“I failed, Sir.” She choked out.

Pike might have sighed, she didn’t hear. His right hand moved to her arm, then back to her shoulder again, and he murmured something gently.

“What?”

“Look at me, Cadet.”

It took a lot of effort for Jamie to raise her head. Her eyes met his. She was surprised to see such raw concern, though she wasn’t sure why. Hadn’t they established that they cared about each other?

“That test does  _ not _ define you.”

“Sir?”

His gaze intensified. Searching, almost. Like it was really really important for her to understand. In that case, she would try.

“Jamie, your ability as a captain is not epitomized in a test.”

“Is that not the object of the exam?”

“No.” He told her firmly, even if it didn’t make sense. 

She’d failed again then. Failed to understand. But it was still a simulation, so it was designed to be as real as possible. And Jamie had lost.

“Sir it was still a simulation.”

This time, she did hear him sigh. His position shifted so that he could hold her elbow from one side. “Walk with me, Kirk.”

Walking was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to curl up on the floor and press her face against the cool tile until she either passed out, or felt like a person again. She might vomit if her legs moved.

But Jamie had a scar now instead of glass in her lip, and so she supposed she wasn’t allowed to lay on the floor any longer. She had outgrown laying on the floor.

Her legs dutifully enhanced her nausea.

“Captain, I failed. I failed the test.” For some reason, her brain saw fit to repeat this fact. She paid no mind to where they were going.

“Wanna tell me why this is tormenting you?”

“I couldn’t save the freighter. I was so close and I  _ couldn’t do it _ —and what’s worse, I endangered my own crew and got them killed. People died.”

“No.” His head whipped around and he fixed her with a commanding stare. “You nip that thought in the bud, you hear me?  _ No one _ died. It wasn’t real.”

It was lame that Jamie felt like crying again. This was stupid. And she knew it was stupid. Crying over an exam that wasn’t supposed to matter. But didn’t it matter? Because her head was light and her stomach was rebelling and she was shaking all over again and she had  _ failed _ when she could have proven her worth.

And it might have been real. That was the point.

“It could have been, Sir. Isn’t that the point?”

“It’s not.”

“But then why—”

He squeezed her elbow. Not hard, or sharply, just enough to remind her that he was still there, that he wasn’t leaving, that he was supporting her. Jamie didn’t know why she felt immense relief at the gesture. She did. She felt comfort—however miniscule it was in the face of her turmoil.

“Kirk, listen. The  _ Kobayashi Maru _ is a special kind of assessment. It’s specific. It targets. It’s not designed to be won.”

That was good, at least. That Jamie hadn’t done anything wrong. Still though, she felt heavy.

“Did you make any mistakes, Kirk?”

“They could argue that my choice to follow orders was flawed.”

“But did you mess up? Say the wrong thing? Give the wrong command? Huh James? Did you make a mistake?”

How could she have? There had been people in the balance. Affording mistakes was out of the question. Of course, she’d been nothing shy of perfect.

“No, Sir.”

“That’s all that needs to be said.”

Jamie finally looked up. She couldn’t remember how long they’d been walking for, or how many turns they’d taken, or what buildings they’d been in and out of. Their stroll could have been half a minute. It could have taken hours. She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that her gut was behaving violently, and her eyesight was blurred but mostly from the tears she hadn’t allowed to fall. Her hands were sweaty and shaking. And she was tired.

They’d finally come to a stop. It was her dorm floor. He’d brought her all the way back.

Pike turned to face her again. “Jamie,”

Water wobbled on the brims of her eyes, making it hard to see his face. But she didn’t have to look to know that he was concerned (though his tone of voice also suggested he was proud—what was he proud of?).

“It’s okay.” He promised. He brought his hands up to hold her arms. “No one died, and you,”

Her gut settled just a little.

“I know you did well. You are going to be a great captain. We don’t need a simulation to confirm that.”

Her lip, her lower lip trembled just a tiny little bit. She wanted to thank him. Thank him for his kind words and warm gaze and strong convictions. Thank him for the hope, for being there, for not leaving her alone, even when she’d tried to push him away.

A tear trembled for one precarious moment, before tipping entirely and rolling down Jamie’s skin. The visual clarity it brought was enough to see Pike’s face soften. Gently, easily, he pulled her towards him, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

Jamie allowed herself a single broken sob, burying her face in his chest, melting into the touch—so starved of it—feeling suddenly enveloped in relief. It was going to be okay. He promised so. And his chin was on her crown, and his coat was wet with tears, and she was safe right here. Cared for, reassured, valued (what a strange, new feeling), and most importantly: not alone. What she wanted wasn’t always the best.

When Jamie’s body had given all the water it had, she pulled back. The best thanks she could offer was a shaky smile, but it seemed to be enough for him. He smiled in return.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Any time.” 

He relinquished his hold slowly, but it was okay because Jamie could pretty much stand on her own now. And her dorm was right there, so she would be fine.

“No classes for the rest of the day.”

She nodded.

“Alright then, buddy. I’ll catch you later.” His expression suddenly opened up, and Jamie realized with a start that he was proud of her. He… he was proud.

A tiny seed of warmth sprouted in her gut.

“Get some sleep.” He said.

As opposed to coffee? She would like nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day? Look at me goooooo


	10. Sweet Little Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie has a tiny friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s short, but I think that’s okay. It didn’t really need to be expanded much more ^^

Jamie thought she was being discreet. In all truth, she probably was not. Subtle wasn’t exactly her strong suit, after all.

But despite the fact, she was trying really hard, because this deserved to be endeavored, and this deserved all the try-hard that she could muster.

It had started after her first official family dinner. Or, well, before that, really. When she’d charged into the mud and soiled her shoes. After sinking up to the ankle in dirt sludge, she’d secured a grip on the tiny— _ tiny _ —body therein, heart nearly melting at the sight. She had been very grateful to have left her dorm early, because it allowed her enough time to rush to the nearest water fountain and rinse the poor creature off. It hadn’t enjoyed that bit. Few cats might. Miraculously, however, Jamie came away from the encounter without a scratch, and apparently plus one new friend.

She hadn’t realized the little baby thing had followed her all the way to Pike’s house until she walked out onto the porch and noticed it hiding in the bushes. The big blue eyes startled her at first. Then she stomped her shoes on, bid her farewell to the Pikes, and began walking down the street. The black creature continued to trail sneakily.

Incredible how dark the fluffy fur had been, once Jamie scrubbed all the dirt away. It reminded her of a void, like a gravity well. So dark, like a sky without stars. Like the night.

In some human cultures, Jamie knew black cats were bad luck. But this one was just a baby (no more than six weeks, if she had to guess), and she seemed harmless enough. Also Jamie didn’t really believe in luck.

So when the cadet had gone a little way’s, she kneeled on the ground as discreetly as she could, and pulled a piece of steak from her take-home package (Kelly insisted she bring back some leftovers). Only a small pair of mirrors flashed in the dark. Jamie smiled. She threw the food out.

This process repeated itself another handful of times on Jamie’s way back to campus. Things could only escalate from there.

Pets were not allowed at Starfleet Academy. Not even a cheap goldfish. There were too many species to consider among the intelligents in attendance and staff, and making a list of what myriad of animals could be allowed was definitely too much of a hassle. But the black kitten was not an official pet. More like… an occasional object of Jamie’s doting affection. 

It was obviously a stray, and it was obviously living off the streets, but it also seemed to favor Jamie, and it would come to her if she called. Probably because Jamie saved her life in the mud, and also probably because she snuck her food whenever possible. And  _ maybe _ because she’d set up an entire miniature house for her behind the dorms—made out of scrapped bins and old blankets.  _ Maybe _ because Jamie had bought a brush to brush her. 

She thought she was being discreet about it. The kitten followed her around campus, at times, a shadow between buildings. And when Jamie noticed, she usually kind of tossed a piece of her latest snack aside. She never made a show of cooing over its adorableness, or stroking its fluffy, silky black fur. Not in public, at least. That showed discretion, right?

One day, the kitten even came with Jamie into the dorms. She followed her right up the stairs, right through her door, and into her room. Jamie was surprised, though not altogether shocked. The kitten sauntered right over to the bed, hopped up, curled into a ball, and dozed off. As if it was the most natural thing in the world.

At that moment, Jamie decided that this was  _ her _ cat, even if Starfleet disapproved and disallowed, and generally made life less enjoyable. The cat was—without a doubt—her vibe. It didn’t matter that the little creature went sans a collar, Jamie was perfectly content to let her roam freely on the streets without a hint of domesticity. They both knew they were pals. That was good enough. Besides, it was easier to sneak around that way. Admin couldn’t accuse her of keeping an animal when she obviously wasn’t housing or claiming it. Not to mention that cats are the ones who own people, instead of the other way around.

Jamie even found night to be pretty sweet at times. If Jamie needed a cuddle, or her latest date had gone south, she could count on a kitten to comfort her. She could rely on her consistency with far more confidence than she held in most other people. A cat. A  _ cat _ . 

Well, it wasn’t really saying much, but Jamie was nonetheless glad to have it. The silent, mindless companionship was quite a blessing, especially when Jamie’s own mind was the problem, when the earth turned, and the sun went down. When Jamie needed to be reminded that all the world isn’t the universe. Sometimes the world can be dark, black, soft.

Very very small.


	11. Bitter Black Daydream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Squad dubs the cat

Bones leveled her with a stare. “That’s a dumb name.” He said, with all the dry sincerity of a dead cricket.

Jamie pouted at him and turned the bundle of baby cat away defensively. 

“Aw, I think it’s cute.” Uhura tickled the sweatshirt.

“Thank you!”

“It might be a bit cliché, but it suits her. Maybe we could change the language. Let me think.”

“Cliché?”

“Jamie, it’s literally a black cat.”

“So? At least I didn’t name her Adrien!”

“What?”

“Ouch!”

Uhura’s fingers had strayed too close to the kitten’s maw, and the attack came quickly. In a single darting strike, night had jerked forward and clamped down on flesh with her mouth needles—like an honest-to-all viper—before burrowing back into her clothing so that only the tips of her gaping ears could be seen.

“Jamie! Control your dang cat!” 

Bones huffed the reprimand and grabbed Uhura’s wrist, observing the swelling bead of blood at the pad of her palm. “Good god, who knows what kinds of diseases that thing is carrying! Uhura, go wash your hand thoroughly.”

“Alright,”

“What a little freaking nightmare.” He glared at the ears.

Jamie scowled back at him. “Hey! She’s really sweet! She’s just got a lot of energy, is all. She’s being playful.”

The kitten’s head reappeared. She chomped down on the edge of the sweatshirt.

“See?”

“...I hate cats.”

“Why? You might as well be one.”

He glowered. “That’s not funny, Darlin’. You know we’re not allowed to have pets. Why is that thing here?”

Jamie pretended to be offended. “What? You think I can’t sneak an animal around campus?”

“No.”

“Gee, thanks.”

For the moment, they were convened in Bones’ dorm, and the kitten reveal had been somewhat of an accident. See, Jamie was supposed to be studying. She had not been. She had sort of been having a wild orgy in Uhura’s room with Gaila and a select of her harem (which Uhura did not know about yet—Gaila had stayed behind to clean up), and had broken her middle finger at a really weird angle. Such a strange fracture was painful enough, and intriguing enough for Jamie to make a personal visit to the Grumpy Pants himself, so she stopped by her own dorm, showered away any evidence of former activities, and grabbed a fresh change of clothes. 

What she hadn’t known was that the kitten had staked it out in her room, and had followed her all the way to the male cadet quarters without anyone being the wiser. No one had noticed until Uhura came looking for one of her workbooks and saw the creature lounging on Bones’ bookshelf.

Jamie’s finger had since been rearranged and splinted (much to her immature glee), and Uhura had helped her swaddle the cat in Bones’ sweatshirt after witnessing how destructive a juvenile and randomly energetic feline could be.

“Darlin’, you are many things, but subtle is not one of them.”

Jamie rolled her eyes.

“I got it!” Uhura ran out of the bathroom, eyes bright. A wad of toilet paper was neatly folded on her palm. Bones attacked with his hyposprays.

“Got what?”

“Ow! The name for your kitten!”

Bones made quick work of Uhura’s hand. He muttered bitterly about encouraging the pet.

“Yeah? Well, I wanted to name her Night.”

“You could name her Nyx.”

“What’s that?”

Uhura straightened and puffed her chest out a little. “An ancient Greek myth. She’s the goddess of night—one of the  _ primordial _ gods: the most powerful beings in greek mythology. I almost forgot about it!”

“You speak ancient Greek?”

“Well, no. But I had a phase for old literature when I was...nine, and there happened to be this modern-day greek myth series a couple of centuries ago that was really popular. I did a lot of research.”

And it  _ was _ better than calling the kitten Night. Nyx sounded way cooler.

Jamie grinned in her signature, crooked way. “What d'ya think?” She asked the sweatshirt. “Is Nyx a good name?”

The kitten mewled, as if the answer was obvious, and why had she bothered to ask for confirmation? Or maybe she was just getting hungry and wanted more than cotton to eat. An equal possibility. Either way, Jamie felt pleased.

“Nice.”


	12. Ace of Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie’s taking the test again, but this time, she’s planning ahead. Her goal is to set herself up for the next time she sits in that chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brother wanted to know where Jim got the apple from during the third test, and I am happy to announce that we’ve adopted the headcanon of sleight Kirk. He smuggled it in on previous exam dates.   
> I’m sorry this one is short. Perhaps I focused too much on the drama of the apple in place of the simulation—though maybe it’s more in character that way!

Jamie had been practicing her sleight of hand, and she liked to think she was getting pretty good at it. The stuff took a good deal of precision. She had made such effort to get this right that disappointing herself was by now an impossibility.

Every detail was planned out. Jamie had even counted the step, mapped out the script, organized far in advance. Being so clinical felt like going against her nature, but Jamie was willing to make the sacrifice. 

_ This _ was the extent she was willing to go to. This was for her. For Bones. For everyone. This was to prove her worth. To prove her character. To prove to the world exactly the kind of creature she was.

She had prepared, and honed, and sharpened her skills, and she felt ready. She knew she was. The time had come to put them to use… and see if they really measured up.

This time, when she pushed the doors open, her hands remained steady (even the slightest deviation could cause the plan to tilt sideways. Jamie wasn’t one to be militant in that regard, but she was willing to make an exception for a case so important). She strode with surety towards the chair, and settled her mind into a steely cage of determination. Her plan was going to work. It  _ needed _ to work. She didn’t know what she’d do if it didn’t.

Today was crucial.

Her presence was announced. The room whirred to life. In a single moment, the event was set into motion, and Jamie had every ounce of their attention. Their  _ precious _ possession. No, they were looking at her too closely.

She could understand, to a certain extent. She was an oddity. No one goes back for seconds.

But the daughter of a dead hero isn’t just anyone. The kind of girl who lives a life like Jamie could never be just a random somebody. The spotlight  _ has _ to have her. But as always, the closer you look, the less you see. And not a soul on the bridge caught Jamie’s trick with their eye. 

Just as she planned, she accessed the secret compartment in the chair, and deposited her prize within. The beautiful red was much crisper than her cadet uniform. Its tight skin shone like gloss, and the delicious curve of the body promised a tantalizing pallet of sweet flavors. This was about as far as Jamie was willing to go when it came to her nutrition (an apple a day keeps the doctor away! Bones had been furious. Jamie reminded him that  _ anything _ could keep the doctor away if she threw it hard enough).

The fresh, crisp fruit should be good in the chair for another handful of days—or however long it was going to take to translate her impending observations into a language the computer would understand. Preferably as soon as possible. Her friends would be upset, but when she became the first to beat the test, that would probably be short-lived.

Having completed the first leg of her mission, she reigned in her delight and prepared to endure the worst. This next bit was going to be difficult. She had to pay attention. She had to see the picture in full view. No slacking off, no spacing out. Even a second of misdirection could mean the difference between success and failure. And Jamie was  _ not _ going to fail. Today would be the last time.

She had some tricks up her sleeve, and she intended to use them.

Upon leaving the room, she’d write a code. And she’d slave over it until it was perfect. Until she knew it back and front. Until she anticipated every twitch of the simulation with nothing but sheer confidence.

It took a lot of effort to make this seem effortless. Jamie wanted nothing left to the imagination. She was going to razzle dazzle ‘em. They were going to sit back in awe. Just wait.


End file.
